Watch it Break
by lostloveloki
Summary: Each girl in the red room practiced her seduction skills on young men. Successful girls would steal a little trinket from the boy, while he recovered from post-coital bliss, before handing the little keepsake to the department. For each acceptable stolen item, the trainee would be rewarded with the opportunity to learn the arts, and improve their skills. All those who failed… suffe
1. Chapter 1

They used to speak to the girls of the Red Room about their functionalities. Their destinies. They were not mere girls who were born to play, work and die without having impacted the world at all. They were to be spiders. Small, effective, secretive, and responsible for intricate webs of confusion and discord among those who feared them. The trainer lines up the girls and speak of their disguises. Their missions.

Their paths.

The girls of the red room are to be porcelain dolls, they said. Each and every single one of them must be singular in the eyes of the beholder. They are to be beautiful, delicate, something to treasure, something to desire, something to be objectified, adored, and polluted. They are to be perfect playthings. Submissive or dominant, sweet yet harsh, perfect yet broken. Something that needed to be controlled and protected.

Or so their victims were to believe.

The red room was no place for the weak, and more importantly not a place for men. The unofficial head of the red room, Mistress Glukhova, was the first black widow. The first and finest of all women that had been released from their institution, back in its fledgling days, and she would teach them the ways of the world. Her words were honey, and lemon. Sweet beyond compare, or so strange that everything could turn sour.

"Men are weak," she announced to the girls, as they stood before her, erect and still, though glances were exchanged from the corner of their eyes. "Men lack self-control," she elucidated, pacing from one end of the line to the other, before turning around, her thick black leather boots not making a single sound as she paced. Mistress Glukhova was well past her prime, with her salt and pepper hair pulled into a tight bun, and her billowing dark brown jacket, blazing with the red and gold emblem of the KGB on over her right breast. She came to a halt in the middle of the room, turning to face them, her scathing gaze scoured over them. Several moments of utter silence passed before her lips quirked up, a rare sight that had the hearts of the girls beating quickly. It was not a kindred smile, not even an amused one. Her eyes were filled with a hard edge, as if she was about to dole out a sadistic punishment. A cold laugh, escaped her blood red lips, as she threw her head back marginally, in a fashion that men might have once called flirtatious, as she drew he hand up to her lips. "You will use that weakness against them time and time again."

Her lips pressed together in a cold and calculating manner once again, as her eyes sought through the line. "Step forward Romanova."

Natalia's heart froze within her chest, as a sudden bout of fear shot through her veins. Was she to be disciplined? Had Glukhova found out about the small bottle of spirits she had been selling to her classmates for favours? Her heart leapt into a gallop, but she acquiesced. She stepped forward, looking straight ahead as Glukhova headed towards her. She stopped less than a foot away from her, appraising her slowly. "Some of you girls will have it easier. Some of you have been gifted with ample gifts." She cupped one of Natalia's breasts and turned to the line of students.

Natalia winced, recalling part of first days in the red room.

The senior batch of trainees had just gone through the red test (the first kill test), and a student had failed to pull the trigger on her target. The brown haired young woman, still small despite her ample bosom, was perfectly silent as she knelt in front of the line of girls. She was blindfolded, gagged, and her hands tied together in front of her. She was completely resigned to her fate.

"We do not allow the weak to thrive among us, girls. You must make a decision when the time comes. You must make the decision the red room requires from you," Glukhova's honey voice filled the room, though she barely spoke louder than a whisper. "Those who fail are punished."

She nodded to the Asset, who was rumoured to have been the girl's combat tutor. He crossed the distance to the girl, and grabbed her hands, wrenching them above her head silently, before guiding her to lie down on the ground, resting her hands on the back of her head. He knelt beside her, turning his back to the girls that watched, and pressed his metal hand down on her shoulder. What might have been misconstrued by some as a reassuring touch was in fact an iron grip, holding her down.

Glukhova gestured briefly to another officer in the room, a woman with a drawn expression, who swiftly moved into place behind the girl, and reached under her long red skirt before pushing it up, revealing the girl's perfect, bare bottom. There was not a single scar from a whipping or combat wounds. A sign of a truly brilliant student. The woman moved out of the way, handing Glukhova something that glimmered briefly in the gas-light.

"Fail us once, and you will be punished. Fail us twice and you will suffer a fate worse than death." Glukhova's smile was that of a bloodthirsty demon, filled with the vile monstrosity of one who did not care for anyone or anything. It was a brief moment during which the students could glimpse her soul. Rotting and evil.

"This is Yezhova's first offence. Let it be a lesson to you."

Glukhova knelt in between Yezhova's slightly trembling legs, pushing them further apart, before displaying her instrument in her upturned palms.

A ramrod, inhumanly thick metal phallus. Her lips pulled back around her sharp teeth as she brought the tip of the phallus to the girl's bare heat.

"Usually no one commits a second offense."

And with a deft movement of the woman's arm, the screams began.

To this day, Natalia still hears the cries of Yanina in her dreams.

Glukhova let go of Natalia's bosom. "You may step back," she spoke quietly. A wave of relief crashed through her body, and she silently exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

Glukhova's eyes roamed again. "And some, like Durchenka," the thin, flat-chested young lady at the opposite end of the line stepped forward, "have not been gifted, and will have to work harder."

Glukhova returned to her central point in the room, and with the wave of her hand, Durchenka stepped back in line. "You will learn to exploit men. You will learn to use their cock-headedness to barter for their intelligence in exchange for your bodies. Your bodies, after all, are nothing but vessels in the search for information, for our people and our land. "

A chill ran down Natalia's spine as she felt eyes roaming over her. In the corner of the room, shrouded in the shadows behind Glukhova, the Winter Soldier's eyes met her own.


	2. Chapter 2

A\N: Introducing an asset who plays piano, because Sebby's a talented pianist thanks to his mum, and its quite likely that Bucky could have learnt the piano because the middle class of north america was very fond of learning piano, and though we know Steve's a punk from brooklyn and his best friend's family is working class, they may have had an old rickety piano which they bought second hand or third hand, because they wanted their children to have this one nice, and gorgeous instrument, to fill their evenings with song and beauty... I digress... Enjoy!

"No, no, no, no!" Master Zakharin exclaimed, yanking Lilyna away from Levkina. The class of twenty-six young ladies had been divided into pairs, each girl assigned to a partner to practice on "You must never pucker your lips, stupid girl! You're not going in to kiss your cousin! You're trying to seduce her! Keep your lips soft. Slightly apart. Like you're eager and hesitant. If your target believes you're a vulnerable young woman, it makes extraction of information much easier. Try again."

Lilyna glared daggers at Master Zakharin when he wasn't looking, and took a deep breath. No puckering. Right. She stepped towards Levkina, and looked into her eyes with determination. Taking a deep breath, she stood onto her tiptoes, and pressed her lips to her partners.

"No, no, no!" he cried in exasperation. "Must I kiss and show you?" the middle-aged man huffed, clutching his head. "You have to be- You must be more- Like Romanova!" he exclaimed, pointing towards the back of the room, where Natalia was pressing herself around Masharina, who was overwhelmed and out of breath. Natalia was kissing her eagerly, alternating between tender pecks, pulling on her lower lip with her teeth, and probing her partner's mouth. She broke apart occasionally, breathing deeply- but not so deeply that it was unseemly. Her gasps were short and enticing. She was impassioned and seemingly desperate for more from her partner. Mistaking Natalia's manipulation, for her personal skill at kissing, Masharina delved into the next kiss, though she was sloppy and used far too much saliva. Romanova ignored her partner's short comings and continued kissing her like she was the most talented, wonderful, generous lover in the whole world.

"That's how you kiss! See how enamored Masharina is? Cocky, self-assured, highly distracted. That is how you want your target to be. Well done, Natalia. You are free for the rest of the day. I will talk to Mistress Glukhova about transferring you to an advanced seduction class," their tanned instructor with strangely flattened wrinkles announced. Rumour had it that he used venom to give himself youthfulness because the red room refused to fund commercial surgery, as he was no longer doing field missions. Natalia pulled her lips away and slowly licked them, still eyeing Masharina, before finally turning towards her teacher. "Thank you very much, Master Zakharin." She extricated her limbs, from the tangled mess they had formed, and walked out of the room suppressing a grin.

She hopped to her room, her face splitting into a grin as she beheld her reflection, grinning at the smudged lip balm. Masharina was a good trainee, a disciplined girl, who was unfortunately rather introverted. There was always the innate feeling that Masharina was thinking about something, contemplating. Not in the calculated air of an assassin, or the put-on air of someone who wished to seek intelligent, but in the style that suggests a deep well of thoughts, into which a single drop would travel down a very long way, in its travels. Yet, until today, Natalia had never seen her compatriot lose her thoughts and give into her impulses.

Swelling with pride, Natalia fixed up her lips, and headed down to the recreational training room.

Walking down, she walked past a music practice studio, and fell still as a gentle lullaby filtered into her mind. Something deep within her body reacted to the melody, relaxing immediately, and a vision of warmth and a kindly dark-haired woman overcame her. Feeling her legs weaken, or perhaps just relax, she leant against the wall, breathing slowly, trying to recall the face of the woman. Was it someone who had trained her as a young child? Or an administrative lady? No, it couldn't be. None of them were kindly, or warm.

The melody morphed into complicated variations, weaving a gentle image of serenity, before modulating into a melancholy form. She blinked, and looked up. Who could possibly play with such deep-rooted sadness? It didn't just sound unhappy, no, she could feel the pain resonate in her flesh itself. The polyphonic music wove a call-and response of sheer lamenting, between hands, cutting straight through the complex ornamentation and trills on the keys.

Silently tip-toeing towards the closed door, she peeked in through the little window in the door, and lost her breath, as she beheld a longhaired, unshaven asset's hands glide over the piano. His fingers bounced and hovered over the keys, waiting ghostingly to strike their targets. And yet… the notes weren't merely struck with precision. There was something hauntingly deep about the way the music reverberated, and struck her ears.

True blue eyes met hers, freezing her into place. He had turned her head to face her, though his fingers kept gliding over the keys of the baby-grand piano, tender as a feather and precise as a sharp dagger. Though the song slowly reached its end, it changed seamlessly into something far more familiar: Shostakovich's second waltz. His lips never turned into anything other than a line, but his eyes left her, and crinkled, before he shut his eyes and played.

Her heart beat furiously in her chest, as she spun away from the little window, pressing her back against the wall, her eyes wide with confusion. It was nothing special at all, and yet there was something that felt so ridiculously intimate about the way they shared that moment. The song, the woman, the eye-contact, that rare insight of seeing the American as something more than just a completely dull emotionless combat trainer.

Something about those eyes…

The music stopped, and the chair pushed back within the room. When the door clicked open, the corridor was completely empty.

A\N: I hope you liked this chapter! Drop some comments and let me know how you feel about where this is going. If you can guess where this is heading :3


	3. Chapter 3

Natalia's promotion from Master Zaccharin's class meant that she qualified for Mistress Glukhova's exclusive courtesan techniques class- a small class whose sole purpose was the creation of the most alluring seductresses Soviet Russia could offer. There were trained to be so enticing, so delectable, and talented that even the most devoted husbands of many years would forget all about any other obligations, and purely revel in the intercourse and balm that the young bodies could offer. Natalia's heart pounded with pride and sheer anticipation as she headed down to the closed door, in front of which around half a dozen young women stood congregated together, patiently awaiting the arrival of their instructor once again. In the class, Natalia was easily the youngest by over a year and a half, though her supple, ripe body never gave away her youth. As the rest of them had several lessons with Mistress Glukhova, and were thus far from surprised as the class unfolded.

Finally as Mistress Glukhova arrived, and unlocked the room in which they were to be instructed, the girls quickly entered, and automatically headed through another pair of doors without further instruction. Natalia bit back her confusion, and simply followed the others, turning briefly, noting that their teacher remained in the first room, while they walked past a mirrored wall into another room. Once in the other room, Natalia nodded in understanding as she sat down on one of the old, slightly shabby chairs, and saw her teacher as clearly as if she were merely looking through a window. They scrunched together on their seats, and watched their teacher with interest.

"Today you will learn one approach in oral gratification. Play close attention," Glukhova announced briefly. She shrugged out of her billowing dark brown jacket, and hung it on her chair with meticulous care, and proceeded to undo a couple of buttons on her black blouse, adjusting the blouse in such a way that she could maximize the exposure of her cleavage for a man standing at an optimal angle, without being utterly indecent. Resting her hands on the desk, she took a seat, allowing the chair to jut out slightly from under the desk such that she could comfortable cross her long legs, hiding behind silk stockings. Finally, picking up a file on the history of the KGB, Mistress Glukhova loosened a couple strands of hair, leading her lean, thin skinned fingers through her hair to loosen a few strands of hair to rim her face.

A knock reverberated from the thin old wooden door to the mirrored room and Natalia quirked an eyebrow in interest, curious to see who would dare to interrupt the Mistress' Courtesan class. Glukhova stared straight at the one-way mirror, her eyes gleaming with some dark satisfaction, eyeing her invisible students, looking straight at Natalia.

Natalia's heart began beating erratically, urging her to put as much distance between herself and the bestial woman as humanly possible. The air suddenly felt heavy with electricity, static energy almost palpable on her tongue. Her eyes briefly drifted to her peers, but they seemed unaffected.

Glukhova immediately schooled her features and looked innocently towards the door gazing at her innocent victim. He was a tall, gangly brunet man, with a wispy attempt at growing a mustache, in lieu with an oversized blue tie over his shirt, emblazoned with the KGB emblem.

"I was requested to check some of the department's weapons?" the man asked in a plain baritone voice, bowing down to where Mistress Glukhova sat. Though the man was evidently 20 years her junior, his eyes couldn't help but briefly settle on her exposed, plump breasts, and slither down her legs as she uncrossed and crossed her legs in a flamboyant slow movement, made to draw him out to gaze at her physicality. One of the students behind the window turned to her comrade and grimaced.

"Yes... I did request you," she smiled with an air of power as she rose. "Just one of my personal blades." she reached down between her breasts and pulled out a very small sheathed dagger, and held it out for him.

"A dagger?" he raised his eyebrows.

She smirked sheepishly, unsheathing it and pressing the flat of the blade against her cheek. "I lied, Mr. Vanko. The blade is just a pretense. "She flicked it across the room and sighed softly. "I jus- I simply wanted to see you again."

"To see me? "He asked uncertainly, shifting into a position which would subconsciously protect his crotch.

"I am not going to hurt you, Mr. Vanko-"

"Doctor," he corrected automatically, regretting it instantly.

She smiled beatifically, her age melting away, making it abundantly clear why she was the most successful widow in history.

"The truth is, doctor, that I... I have admired you for a long time. I have wished to get closer to you for a long time," she spoke softly, "for purely selfish reasons."

"Selfish?" he leaned in subconsciously.

"I- I find you fascinating. Titillating... I saw the suggestions you had for the widow's bite. They are fantastic. Sleek, strong, elegant... Dare I say…Handsome?" she whispered stroking his arm.

"I-I- my wife- eh... Pregnant..." he stuttered, unable to keep his eyes off of Glukhova's bosom.

"Congratulations," she crooned, stroking his cheek with her fingers, "What a truly lucky woman... To carry the brilliant seeds of a man like you." she stroked the back of his neck, slowing her fingers to tangle in his hair. "But pregnancy must make it very difficult to consummate your marriage... To contain all that raw animal frenzy," she breathed, pulling his face to hers. He lent down and kissed her, heat building up in his body, incited by the way Glukhova seemed to venerate him. The elder woman pressed herself to him, like any eager, needy young woman might, and gyrated her hips against his. Natalia stared incredulously at how quickly that simple move caused an erection to build, making it incredibly visible for all seven women. Glukhova smirked, running her hands through his hair and then letting them flow down his slight chest. Her fingers found the hem of his trousers and carefully stroked along the inside, pulling the trousers forward a little and looking down appreciatively. In the darkened room, Natalia mimicked Glukhova's facial expressions, memorizing them to the best of her ability, while Mistress Glukhova kissed him tenderly down his neck, and unbuckled his trousers greedily.

"Let me at least have your seed this way, "she spoke throatily. "Let me make this little genius truly grand."

Natalia gasped as Glukhova got down on her knees pulling down the man's trousers and underwear, and

Natalia saw a real phallus for the first time. Some of the girls giggled at her reaction, while others rolled their eyes, and ignored her, watching on. Natalia grimaced- the male anatomy most certainly was disgusting... Red, needy, partially hairy, and wrinkled. Not perfect and symmetric like the metal ones she had familiarized herself with. Natalia cringed internally, refusing to make a show of her intense discomfort, as Glukhova swallowed the dripping, desperate man, grabbing his buttocks for support.

In the back of her head, Natalia briefly registered the conversation between her comrades as Glukhova, licked, sucked, and did many unmentionable things to the Doctor.

'-so immoral, though. She's stealing a fellow woman's husband. We should be thronging together as women, not inciting this-'

'But don't you get it? If she doesn't do this, we can't learn, and we can't serve our fatherland against the enemies of the state. We need to learn this. '

'I'm not denying that... But she's screwing up a marriage. Screwing with some kid's dad. '

'Literally, " a smug voice added,

'Nice," someone added in an acerbic tone, "This is not some pointless I want your man scenario. She's teaching us. '

Blocking them out, Natalia tilt her head, paying close attention to Glukhova's jaw motions and trying to extrapolate the suction technique, marveling at Glukhova's grin of triumph as the little genius spilled his secrets at last.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Okay, as promised another chapter because I haven't been around for two weeks. Sorry about the last chapter. I fell asleep during editing because I hadn't slept in around 40 hours, but this chapter is much better. Pinky promise. Ps. for now, my headcannon is that they've only wiped him once, taking away all personal history details, and have not started the process of sticking him in cryogenic storage. So... he has a personality.

Many statements could be made about young trainee Romanova, but none could claim that she did not work hard. Natalia spent her days studying with her peers, learning the techniques of dealing deadly blows, the intricacies of psychological warfare, and even advanced seduction classes with Mistress Glukhova. Despite the perfection and persistant confidence that oozed from her skin, her heart beat erratically at night as she left the safety of her room, sneaking through the shadows seeking a balm to ease the rips in her mind, torn by indoctrination from class.

What in fact filled the cold and lonely nights of the prodigious trainee was the warmth and sanctuary of an unheated hallway in the basement unit of the Widow Programme. Natalia would arrive in her sanctuary, greeted by the dulcet voice of her favourite companion: the grand piano played by the American. She would peek through the window in the door during the first few weeks of her little visits to the calming land of music, listening to the variety of songs the Winter Soldier would play. He played tender waltzes, spirited folk songs from all over the world, etudes, sonatas, lullabies, and even children's songs, all from memory. He always played something different, ranging from impressionism, to the romantic era, to the baroque period, to cheerful swing music. His repertoire seemed endless, and for all Natalia knew, he might have written all the songs she was unfamiliar with. She leant against the wall across from him, and watched him play. She watched his fingers dance peacefully over the keys, gliding and caressing them tenderly. Even the metal hand seemed unexpectedly gentle and light, and she couldn't help but wonder how it might feel, wrapped around her in a caress...

As Natalia daydreamed watching his hands while entranced by his strokes, she failed to see the small glances he shot her, and realize the origin of the slight curve of his mouth as the days turned into weeks.

When he glanced at her he did not see a budding seductress or killer. He did not see an agent, or assignment. He did not see the violence that became his second skin when he was out on missions. He was no longer the Winter Soldier, but merely a man playing the piano for a gorgeous young woman. They did not speak, or lock eyes again, but the presence of the other was a simple comfort for his soul.

After the first few days of secrecy, Natalia noticed that he would always begin playing the second waltz by Shostakovich, whenever she arrived and left. No matter what else he had been playing prior to her appearance in the hall, the music intricately morphed into the waltz, never breaking the steady stream of gentle music until she was gone.

All but one night,

Three weeks after her nightly visits began, Natalia arrived, shrouded in the darkness of the unlit corridor, and looked into the room briefly before leaning against the door and slipping down to sit and press her ear to the door. The lullaby morphed into their waltz, lulling her into a deep slumber after her strenuous extra hours of combat training because she had been unable to beat her partner during the hand-to-hand combat test.

Hours passed and Vanya looked up towards the little window again, his lips curled downwards, concern etched in his features. Why hadn't he noticed his secret little agent leave? Watching the light filtering through the tiny window, a clock on the wall was illuminated, showing the little hour-hand pointing towards four. He stopped playing mid-bar, and quickly opened the door. The girl fell through the open doorway, nearly crashing skull-first onto the granite floor, saved merely by the quick reflex that allowed him to catch her by the neck with his metal hand. She rolled her neck, sleepily wrapping her arm around his, pressing her face to it, smacking her lips comfortably.

Wide-eyed, he stared at her for several moments and marveled at the sheer trust exhibited by-? What was her name again? He wracked his brains, only finding an R.

Damn.

He knelt down and carefully shook her with his flesh hand, feeling strangely... Homely.

"Girl? Widow girl... "She blinked slowly, but shut her eyes again, "Keep dreaming of him," she whispered to herself, eliciting a confused smile from Vanya."Keep dreaming of those blue eyes," she insisted.

"Red? Red, wake up!" he whispered urgently. There was a patrol at 4.30am. He knew she would be punished if they found her here.

"That's not my..." she opened her eyes and finally locked onto his worried gaze. The features which had been blissfully drowsy and happy transformed, he saw her entire mossy irises as she gasped, "Oh fuck."

"So polite," he grinned, unable to help himself for some inexplicable reason. He pulled her to her feet and whispered quickly. "Next time come and sit on one of the stools inside. I'll play something more energetic to keep you from falling asleep on the floor. "

She opened her mouth.

"Run, you're late."

Shutting her mouth immediately, she nodded and flew through the corridors silently like a red tainted Swan, ignoring the pounding of her heart at the memory of his touch.

Once she was gone, he touched his metal palm to his cheek, and sighed as her natural warmth still lingered on the alloy.

"How strange," they both thought weaving through empty corridors that night.

Later that very day, Natalia stood in a line with her five comrades, facing Glukhova, who stood tall, towering over them on her new black boots, watching them with a stem expression before bursting into a ghoulish grin, eyes settling on her favourite, Yelena, as she spoke.

"Congratulations, girls. You have now completed phase one of courtesan work: theory. The rest of the classes for the next two weeks are cancelled, and you only need to attend if you wish to ask questions about phase two. You have seen and practiced all the skills of seduction the motherland needs from you at this moment in time, and now it is time for some practical testing. During the next two weeks you will practice an assortment of skills on a range of men of our choosing, with the assignment of retrieving some trinket of theirs that is unmistakably of their ownership. Not something trivial they might carry in their pockets. Something from their homes, or clothing. "

"Yes, Mistress, "they chorused, as she nodded at them pointedly.

"The first part is simply a requirement for the inexperienced, lose your virginity tonight. Tomorrow, there shall be not a single intact hymen in good room, and if there is, you may lose it graciously to the rough handling of one of our metal phallic practice toys under the guidance of Master Lucic," she spoke softly, allowing the words to saturate the room as the entire class held their breath in horror. Master Lucic had a severe twitch in both his hands, was unable to hold anything still. This problem coupled with his intense anger issues led to common outbursts of violence and destruction whenever something mildly irritated him. The last time a widow trainee was punished by him, because she had dared to give him a sidelong glance, he grabbed her hair and kicked her stomach multiple times until she bled between her legs.

"Collect as many trinkets as you can during the next weeks, and those we see to be worthy shall receive some extra training to further their skillset. Good luck. You shall find information regarding multiple possible targets from the office in your first debriefing files. Choose your targets with thought, and make the most of this practice time."

Glukhova glanced deprecatingly at all of them once more, and left with an efficient turn of her heel.

That night, the Asset found a still warm note written in a faked script beside the keyboard.

_"Tomorrow. Off on an assignment tonight, Red."_

Smiling away to himself, he pocketed the note and sat down. For the rest of the night, a single waltz resounded throughout the basement.

A/N: Please leave some comments. How do you feel about the direction the story is taking? Does it feel all right? Any comments on pacing or characterization?I just love hearing from you guys.


	5. Chapter 5

Slick, sexy, and dressed for success, Natalia strode through the roads, wearing a warm fur coat, and carrying a slim red purse, as she strutted in dangerously high heels with her target. He was a young man, only a couple years her senior, working in research at the Russian Academy of Sciences, who was soft-handed, and methodical, all the best ingredients for a thoroughly enjoyable first copulation. Or so she decided as she sieved through the three options the Red Room gave her for tonight's mission. She hid her smile, leaning her head against his shoulder, her arms wrapped around his, watching a smile play on his embarrassed lips. Playing her part, she smiled warmly, watching with amusement as he pulled her closer, while they entered the apartment complex

The scientist unlocked the door and pulled her into his largely untidy flat, pushing aside some piles of papers, onto the corner of his table.

"Oh my, Yan, you were not kidding..." she shivered, pushing his arms apart so that she could snuggle, and maximise body contact. She shut her eyes, taking a deep breath, and giggled playfully. "May I put my hands in your pocket? My fingers may drop off otherwise. I don't think they like ballerinas with missing extremities."

"Of course, Nastya," he smiled sheepishly, pulling out his own hands from his pockets, and setting the scribbled notes he had on the desk.

"Oh, Yan," she sighed, as the warmth enveloped her fingers, and kissed his chest through his jacket. "How can I thank you? You kept me warm, you lent me your suit jacket…"

"It's the least I can do," he spoke uncertainly, scratching the back of his head nervously, "Sorry again about the cake stain. I suppose walking with cakes is another thing to add to my 'don't do' list," he chuckled.

"Maybe, "she smiled honestly. _It was such a shame to drag this lovely young man into KGB business, but duty was duty. She had to do as instructed. She had no choice_, she told herself once more, the first ten times not having convinced her. "Could I maybe borrow a pair of boxers too, Yann? It looks like it will be such a cold trek home; I could use some extra insulation. I just hope my toes won't fall off in this horrible weather…" she sighed dramatically, and giggled.

"Eh-well- y-you could stay the night? I'll keep everything out of your way. I'll take the couch-"

"I really shouldn't-It's your bed-"

"You could take the couch?"

She made a face, scrunching up her nose.

"Or we could share..." he asked nervously, scratching along his sleeve and adjusting it. _Was that an appropriate question to ask a strange woman? Surely… surely someone as beautiful and well-travelled as Anastasia… might stay? With him? Maybe?_

"Wonderful," she beamed, hugging him, pressing an adoring kiss to his neck, and strolling around the apartment until she found the bedroom. Poor Yan, just stared after her, gaping at this strange and singular girl. Would she..?

When Yan finally dared to return to the bedroom, Anastasia was already buried under the duvet, smiling up at him.

"Do you mind if I sleep light? I cannot wear too many layers under these duvets'-" he started, only to be interrupted by her pealing giggle.

"I do too," she beamed like a carefree child, "I can't bear to sleep in a bed that makes me sweat." She smiled alluringly, her eyes twinkling as she spoke, "I prefer having men fulfil that function in bed…"

"I-" he flummoxed, unable to think of a response, as he was half undressed already.

"Should I... Not look?" she whispered, taking n in his toned body, her smile broadening just minutely. It was not comparable to how muscular and lean her instructors were, but he would do for this task.

"Eh..."

"You're very handsome," she remarked, tilting her head appreciatively, as he awkwardly stripped down to his underwear.

"I- well that's a first, " he chuckled, a blush creeping up his neck.

"I sense tonight is the night of many firsts, " she smiled, reaching up and kissing his abdomen, holding the duvet close to her chest with one arm, while tracing his abdomen with the other.

"Nastya, what-"

"Make love to me, Yann." Her large green eyes shone with apparent need, her lips slightly parted and glistening.

"I- It's not respectable to do this to you-"

"I don't care. I don't care about respectability, Yan. Make love to me. Please," she moaned softly, baring her nude chest, and leading his hands to them. Her hands proceeded to softly roam his boxers, and pulled out his member, deeming it less disgusting than many others she had to see in class.

"I want you so much... It's been too long since anyone touched me" she whispered stroking him. She refused to look up at him, choosing instead to stare at his length, as if transfixed, and let her fingers delve between her own thighs, dragging out a ragged moan from her red lips.

"Damn," he cursed, before rushing into bed, catching her blood-coloured lips with his own.

Natalia flexed her fingers as she watched the sleeping young man. She rolled her eyes, face pulled into a frown before bursting into a silent yawn.

It had been far too easy.

He had fallen apart instantly. Before he could fuck her, he came in her hand, then from her oral administrations, and finally from actually breaching her once he dug out some protection. She cringed at the memory of the stab of pain that shot through her at his equally inexperienced fumbling, and checked the bed briefly for blood, but found none. Rising slowly she pulled on his clean boxers, a notebook with his name on it, and quickly got dressed.

It was time to return to the facility.

She didn't see what was so addictive about this process of in and out, in and out, but she shrugged it off as she watched others limp painfully, as she reached the front of the worn down building that disguised their establishment.

"Need a hand?" Natalia offered, wrapping her arm around Alyana, the girl who lived in the room next to hers. Alyana was a pale blond beauty, who exuded innocence and charm, with her usually twinkling brown eyes. She also happened to be the most talkative candidate in Glukhova's courtesan class.

"I hate him, I hate them, and I hate sex," Alyana fumed. "That was more painful than damned combat training. He kept pounding and pounding and pounding," she droned, her voice rising and falling with irritation. "And I didn't even get any pleasure either! I won't be able to walk tomorrow," she flinched, clinging onto Natalia, and stopping briefly, shifting her weight until the pain subsided. "Maybe I should have taken Ludicic," her comrade winced as she continued walking with Natalia's help.

"Next time," Natalia sighed, "you might have more luck. All of them can't be this bad, can they? "

"I should hope not," she groaned. "If I ever see him again, I will shoot him in the groin," she huffed.

"If you want a friend for back-up, just call on me. I'll gladly be a ball buster," Natalia smirked, watching the stars disappear behind the heavy, wooden double doors that opened the way to the red room academy.

In the darkness of her own room, Natalia sponged herself with a wet cloth, wiping off the smell of the scientist from her skin. The moonlight filtered through the curtains she had drawn partially, not wishing to turn on the flickering yellow lights of her room and see the fresh lines he had marked her with. Her eyes glittered briefly as a ragged breath escaped her body, and two solitary tears slid from the corners of her eyes.

_If only it could have actually meant something._


	6. Chapter 6

The first time Natalia slowly entered the music practice room while the Asset played, she looked around awkwardly trying not to stare at him. She scratched the back of her head briefly, and shuffled around looking for a seat, but everything was either an instrument case or already in use by the Asset.

He glanced at her, amusement written plainly in his gaze as she tried sitting on the floor, but stopped herself halfway through the motion. Biting her lip, she straightened up and went to lean on the wall beside the door.

"Comfortable?" Vanya smirked, morphing his tune into their waltz, adding a new, playful layer to the song.

"Yes, sir," she answered immediately out of habit. His lips turned up minutely, exhaling slowly through his nose.

"You've snuck out of bed, you have disregarded codes of conduct, and you are sitting in the practice room listening to my piano playing. I'd say formalities are quite worthless at this point in time," he spoke quietly, raising an eyebrow.

"I-I suppose, " she flummoxed, grimacing and averting her gaze, taking a deep and profound interest in a clarinet case all of a sudden. Natalia did not see the Asset shake his head with a smile, before he delved into a passionate variation of the waltz. For the rest of the night, the Asset did not speak, and merely continued the peaceful ritual of playing various songs, his gaze never wavering from the blank music stand, according to Natalia as she avoided gazing at him for a long time. However, her eyes always drifted back to him, only just missing the tender glances he sent her way.

She wore a warm, floor length black dress, with silver decoration around her décolleté, and her hair coiffed carefully, though several strands were dislodged from when she had administered to one of her new targets in the restaurant bathroom while stealing one of his hand-stitched handkerchiefs. The Asset, looked as he always did, clad combat ready, with his mask, goggles, and an AKM resting on the wall behind him. Despite the highly militarized outfit, and the gleam of a five inch dagger against his outer thigh, he looked completely at ease. He sat upright, but not stiffly, his hair was a semi-messy heap which looked like he had run a comb through it several times but surrendered to its untamable will, and his eyes were closed more often than not, completely at ease and familiar with his instrument. The precious melodies flowed like golden honey, saccharine warmth enveloping her senses and lulling her quietly. When her eyes finally began to droop, the music morphed back into their waltz and his voice brought her back to lucidity.

"Go to sleep, Red. The music will still be here tomorrow."

She yawned in confirmation, and slowly turned to the door. "Good night, Sir."

"Good night," he breathed, watching her fade out his life again with a strange pang striking his heart.

For the rest of the week, every night after Natalia completed her practice missions, after having questionable or painful intercourse, she would sneak into the practice room still dressed in her haphazardly placed outdoor clothes, too tired to notice the way the Asset looked at her.

"Why do you come here?" he asked one night, just as she slid down to nestle on the floor as usual.

"Because of you-" she answered a little too quickly. "Your music," she amended softly, averting her eyes. "Of course," he replied equally softly, holding back an incredibly smug grin.

After a while, as the sweet notes rung in their little enclave, she tilt her head and for the first time, she truly looked at him. She looked at the man, not as a spy and object, as Glukhova expected her to, but as the man who somehow made her heart pound eagerly. They call him a ghost, she remembered, recalling the words her comrades whispered. A deadly beast, a mindless drone, stealthy tool. No one and nothing could touch him. He did as commanded. He was just an Asset. The American. Foreign.

Other.

_It must be lonely_, a tiny voice piped up in the back of her head.

_So what? All spies are made to be alone_, another voice insisted.

_But to be singled out like this? It is not the same. _

Just then, the music turned melancholic, the essence of her soul shivering with desolation as pain swept through the air with the light strokes of his fingers. The crisp strokes transformed into a soft hum, slowly taking on the voice of a woman humming an adoring lullaby. The image of the woman from her first visit swept through her again, and Natalia convulsed into a tight ball as she heard the panicked angel's voice call out. _Run out Natasha! Quickly! I need to get Papa,_ the woman promised fervently, before a beam of fire engulfed her.

"No!" Natalia gasped breathlessly, the touch of cold metal carefully clasped over her mouth muting the scream that ached to find release. Two strong arms enveloped her, encaging her in a protective embrace. His metal hand carefully stroked her back surprisingly tenderly, though the leather glove caught the zip of her dress briefly.

"They're burning," she whimpered, "Everyone burnt. The woman, the family- I- it felt so real- like a memory? "

Her agonized whisper cut through him, splintering its way into his heart. The Asset shushed her, keeping her close unable to listen to the assassin in him who cried for merciless destruction of the frail. Instead he listened to a far weaker voice which insisted simply, _Protect the girl._

"These things happen," he whispered stroking her hair back. "It was just a dream, Red. Nothing more."

"But the details!" she insisted weakly, "I wasn't asleep- I- she looked like me-"

"Projected fears perhaps?"

"I- Maybe… But…"

He sighed deeply, and started rocking her instinctively, barely noticing that he was moving. She blinked in fresh confusion, but let it be. "Suppose it was a memory, or something that filtered into your subconscious… We are assassins. We extract information, we deal with the prohibited. You will soon learn that the little details are the ones that will haunt us. You probably read about a fire in one of your report files and forget all irrelevant details, subconsciously selecting only details about a woman onto whom you projected your fears…That is always the natural course of events, Red. Don't fret about it. We all do it."

"b-but…I don't know. It didn't feel like a projection. I'm not afraid of fire- it just felt so… familiar. Like it was part of my past?" she whispered.

"Red, we live a very complicated, stressful life. It may not have been a disconnected event. It may even have to do with you," he admitted. "But let me tell you something I haven't told any of the trainees. It might help you calm down…Red, I know nothing outside this life in the KGB. I don't remember anything before this world, and will never know anything outside this. But that's fine. It is my destiny to serve mother Russia, no matter what else happens in the world, no matter what else has been, what else will be. I serve, and so do you. If it was your past then it clearly was not important for your future survival if your mind decided to discard the details. If it isn't, it is not worth your time right now. Red, the most important thing I can ever impart to you as a spy, and as a human being, it is to watch your back but always look forward at the end."

She sniffed and nodded, burrowing into his warmth, feeling comforted by the morsel of heart not borne from deception. "Is … Russia your mother…though you are American?" she whispered, kissing his metal shoulder reflexively.

"She is the only mother I know, and the only mother I seek. We must only desire what we know the rest is just a distraction." His gaze became far off, as if remembering something profound, though the only thing in his mind at that moment was a deep, disturbing, beckoning silence.

"For she is the only one that lasts," she finished off, feeling her heart thud quickly as she glimpsed his expression.

He nodded mechanically, and exhaled.

"Youth is fleeting, love breaks, lives are destroyed- But we do our duty, and only the land that fed us remains. In the end we return to dust after all…"

Despite the morbidity of everything, Natalia felt a strange sense of ease wash through her, from her heart to her fingertips, everything seemed peaceful. After all, why fret? Everything ends. A small smile tugged on her lips as she breathed, "thank you."

His gaze flickered back to her, his conviction in his words wavering with each moment. "I am not skilled at soothing… it is not my skill set..."

She frowned though her eyes were drooping as a new wave of fatigue approached. "You're better than you realise..." she breathed softly, falling asleep in his arms.

Natalia blinked, yawning softly, and trying to stretch, when she found herself trapped inside a strange warmth. Eyes flickering around, she found herself wrapped in a thick, warm blanket, with her head propped up on a pillow, in a bare room which looked like KGB's standard issue. The walls were bare, the furnishings were minimal, and there were no personal items, save for some screwdrivers and metal lubricant… There was a small flash of light in the corner of the room, and she pulled the duvet close, trying to cover herself.

"Step out of the shadow slowly, or I will kill you using a random selection from 217 killing techniques, none requiring weaponry. "

The Asset walked into the light, his lips turned slightly upwards, as he held up her fur coat, and tilt his head.

"I think I know all counter attacks, and I might just enjoy demonstrating a few hundred more... "

"You-" she stopped herself as she hazily remembered his metal hand clasping over her mouth, and her body tied helplessly in his arms. Blood flooded her cheeks as a sense of realization dawned on her: she was in the American's bed... Had they... ?

She fished around under the duvet, freezing when she discovered that she wasn't wearing any underwear.

"You are a disgusting low life," she growled, getting up, "using your skills on a friendly spy and using chloroform so I would oblige to your sick perversions while I was knocked out! I would have agreed if you would have just asked me, you-"

"I am flattered, truly, but I am innocent for a change, "

"Liar. I'd be wearing underwear," she growled, pulling up her skirt, showing off her bare lower half. His blue eyes grew wide, though glittering with interest, as he turned his head to face the wall.

"Comrade, answer me this: were you wearing any tonight? When you went off to... Practice?"

She jutted her chin or and glowered briefly, as the events unfolded in her mind's eye, "I merely did as instructed… "

"We all do, " he nodded, carefully handing her coat, as if she were actively trying to chop it off.

"Fine. Okay. Good..."

He turned around, and faced her again, "in was just making sure that my only audience member is safe and sound. "

"Safe-? Oh."

A blush crept up her cheeks.

"You should go and get some rest. I believe Mistress Glukhova plans to announce the most successful student from phase two and you wouldn't want to miss your crowning..."

"My what-?"

"By the way... If you request piano lessons, I'll be your instructor. "

Suppressing a grin, he pushed her through the door and shut it behind her.


	7. Chapter 7

Glukhova checked the charts with interest, pacing in front of the girls wearing a sadistic smile as her eyes swept over them derisively.

"Phase two has officially come to an end now, and while it would seem appropriate in some institutions to praise you for achieving the bare minimum of what you were instructed to do, I shall not." She stopped pacing, tilting her head to the side, gaze boring into every single one of them separately. "However, beyond the mediocrity that many have exhibited in the last weeks, there does seem to be a new great seductress amongst your ranks. A new talented courtesan who may lead our country to greatness behind closed doors..."

Yelena pushed her chest out, a presumptuous grin spreading across her pouty lips. Half the class eyed Yelena smugly, and the girls standing on either side of her squeezed her hands in excitement.

Natalia looked on, watching Glukhova with trepidation, resorting to shutting her eyes and taking a shaky breath. She didn't want the attention, or the praise. She did not want to be friends with these other spiders, or get to know their scheming minds either. She just wanted to do her work to the best of her ability and silently accept her well-deserved reward for her hard work.

"This young trainee has cast her web far and wide, selecting targets from a variety of ages, statures and socio-economic circumstances. While many of you only accepted young, spry targets, this exceptional case even copulated with a senior citizen who is a hotel chain owner with an incredibly questionable health history." Yelena gloated so much that she missed the details of Glukhova's introduction, instead jutting her chin out in pride. "She who was willing to do such things for her people will soon be gifted with extra combat training and classes in the arts, in order to be trained for undercover training for the infiltration of our Capital's high society, " Glukhova spoke with pride.

Gasps went around the group, hand in hand with energetic whispered exclamations of "You're so lucky."

"Enough acclamations, it is time;" Glukhova announced contently, "Step forward," Yelena raised her foot, "Romanova."

Twelve eyes bore through Natalia, who was now looking straight at the wall ahead of her. Without another word she stepped forward with a completely blank expression.

"You have earned yourself many honours, trainee," Glukhova tutted, tapping the charts with the back of her pen.

"Thank you, Mistress," Natalia breathed obediently.

"Tomorrow you will begin hand-gun training, and soon enough, hand-to hand combat with close range blades. But first, you shall be moulded to fit among the fresh aristocrats of this day: the wealthy and prodigious."

"Thank you, mistress."

"And now… you may choose your extra course. Choose immediately or you shall lose this opportunity, trainee Romanova. There are no second chances with my offers. Ever."

Natalia nodded respectfully, and straightened minutely, digging her nails into her thighs to stop them from shaking under Glukhova's severe glance. "I wish to learn how to play Pianos, mistress."

"Explain your reasoning."

"It is a popular instrument in upper class circles, owned by the affluent. Skills imply standard and wealth. Additionally, playing gives targets the impression that they remain unheard. Therefore, easing extraction of intelligence. "

Glukhova nodded, turning to look down on the other students. "Foresight and quick wit are the essentials for a widow. Learn from your classmate, Romanova- Although... you will no longer have the pkeasure of learning from her, as from now on, Romanova shall be trained separately." No one dared to refute or speak, until Glukhova finally declared, "Class dismissed."

The girls all turned immediately, turning to face the door, and exiting in a single file formation.

"Not you Romanova."

Natalia froze, squeezing her eyes shut briefly, and letting out a silent breath before turning to Glukhova.

"Yes, mistress?"

"Today, I have made you many enemies. Today is the day your life changes."

"I see, mistress."

Glukhova nodded to herself, and began walking around Natalia, observing the pupil with interest.

"How did you convince old Illyanovich to bed you?"

Natalia shrugged indifferently, "I may have convinced him that I was the spirit of his deceased wife... It only required a wig, some wispy negligees, a pair of glasses that he could not find for a day... And a brief study of their family history."

"Impressive," Glukhova smirked, standing still less than half a metre before Natalia. "How exactly did you have the time required for such a detailed prior analysis of the target? I don't recall the debrief being that detailed about his wife. Though I assume everything else is from the outfitting Hall."

"Of course, mistress," Natalia smiled sweetly, "but I did not do the research myself. One of my other targets was researching into Illyanovich. I convinced him that I would sell my body to him in exchange for s hot meal and waiting since he could not stop preening about his research. I slipped a tranquilizer into his drink, and copied out his notes leisurely."

"Resourceful, "Glukhova mumbled absentmindedly. „Perhaps it is time to speed up your education... I shall fast-track your training. From next week onwards you shall learn English, French, code-breaking and- never mind. I will have a new curriculum set in motion immediately. You shall be informed of the details as soon as everything is finalised... For now continue your old classes."

"Yes, Mistress."

"Dismissed."

Natalia started as a fellow student came up to her and saluted her." Agent Romanova, I am to lead you to your new quarters."

"Age-? I'm not an agent. Don't salute me," Natalia rubbed the back of her neck, furrowing her brow.

"I merely do as instructed, Agent. Please accompany me to your new quarters. I may only go back to self-defence class after you have been relocated successfully." the girl had to be only a couple of years younger than Natalia, though slightly thinner, flatter, with a snub nose and wild blond hair. Natalia's eyes narrowed as she registered the spiteful inflections in the way the trainee spoke, with her lips turned down in a frown.

"I see..."

_Could it be? Would she be going on real missions? Had she been worthy of the title already? _Her mind sped through dozens of options, recalling Glukhova's promise to 'fast-track' her education, but this? This was well beyond the usual procedures. No. It had to be a mistake. She had not passed the red test yet. No, this was definitely a slip up.

"Show me the way. "

The room was slightly larger than her last one, though it was small and humbly showed off a window, a desk, a small cabinet, and a bed. The door had a little lock, which she swiftly decided was not for security reasons, considering the lock picking class in the first year of training.

In the evening, a knock resounded through her room, "Who is it?"

"Your piano teacher," a low voice called out, hardly louder than a whisper.

"Oh no," she breathed. Natalia jumped up and fixed her clothes, pulling her skirt a little higher, adjusting her breasts to seem just a little plumper, and smoothing out her clothes. She quickly sent a comb through her hair, and threw all stray things into her cabinet, before rushing to the door, her cheeks slightly flushed at the unexpected honour.

"Yes, Master-?" she stopped, realising for the first time that she did not know his name,

"Don't call me master, I am merely the Asset."

"But... I cannot just call you 'the Asset', it would imply we are equals. I am far from your skill level-"

"I have no name, Romanova. It is quite fine. Do not refer to me at all, it is probably better practice. If we were to go on field missions it will be safer if you do not have a name to call me by mistake. A wrong name can cost lives."

"Field missions?" she asked sceptically, stepping aside as he moved to enter her room.

" I have been sent by Mistress Glukhova to inform you of all upcoming changes in your training. "

"Oh, that's why..." She turned around and tried to think of something neutral to hide the blush creeping up her cheeks "You might find the bed more comfortable than the chair... The chair looks a little ... Unstable."

His gaze flit to the chair, but he remained standing, going deathly still

"You begin piano lessons tomorrow at five in the afternoon, following a three hour daily close range weapons and combat class also taught by me. They will begin a French course for you, and depending on your progress, I will become your English teacher. Ideally, considering your basics in Latin, this will be relatively quickly. Code breaking, field work survival, and etiquette classes will be taught by further masters and mistresses."

"I... See… May I ask, sir, why did one of the trainees call me agent? "

The asset smirked a little, and watched irritation bloom in her face despite her usually impeccable mask of resignation.

"Because you have been assigned to a new set of courses usually reserved for fully-fledged agents who have passed the red test. So no, Romanova, you are not an agent, but you are very special. "

Natalia looked at him incredulously, and remained silent for a long time. He watched her carefully, trying to spy her thoughts, reading into her smallest twitches. Perhaps he had been in the red room for too long, but the girl stirred companionable reactions in him. Reactions he had not been aware he possessed. There was something about this woman, something that had filtered through to him... She was intelligent, curious, obviously very skilled and professional or she would not be moved to the advanced material after such a short time period. And though she possessed all the ideal qualities of a spy, there was a genuine softness in her gaze at times, a difference in the way she furrowed her brow. There was… humanity in her.

_What a strange sentiment to cherish_, he thought to himself as he glancing at the file in his metal hand. He handed it to her, and quickly turned to head for the door.

"Why did you stay?" She asked softly in a shaky voice, leaning against her bedpost.

"Hm?"

He turned to face her, keeping his expression blank.

"You could have just given me the file, spared yourself the small talk and time. Why have you never reported me for my unauthorized night-time trips to hear you play? Why did you take me to your room, instead of leaving me there for a patrol, or without taking advantage of me. You're an agent. We take advantage of all opportunities. Why did you do all these things?"

Alarmed, he took a subconscious step back. "Because, I'm meant to protect you."

"I'm your mission," she stated dumbfounded.

"No," he asserted, "but I do not harm my own. There are enough enemies. I am with you until the end of the line, because we are on the same side."

"Same- no, no, no. You're an agent. You want us trainees to fail, to hold onto your glory for as long as possible-"

"There is no glory in being a ghost," he answered blankly. "Unlike Glukhova, the rest of us will not be remembered. We melt into time. Only the actions live. Only the present matters. You are the present, you are the future. They see greatness in you, I see goodness. I may be a killer, an assassin, but it is clear that you are good, deep down in your heart," he spoke passionately, stepping closer, and leaning down to gaze into her eyes. "You are cherished."

"I- ." her lips parted involuntarily, blood rushing into her cheeks and her core, feeling genuine warmth spread through her chest. His wild eyes, his impassioned rant, the way his body heaved, and crystal blue eyes locked with hers...

His gaze slipped from her eyes to her mouth, and before he knew it, their lips clashed together in a wild frenzy, turning into a desperate kiss of teeth and tongues, searching, devouring, demanding. Her arm wrapped itself around his neck, and his arms wound around the small of her back, pulling her in. She gasped for breath, feeling dizzy and yet infinitely energetic. She rubbed herself against him in the way she had been taught, but never felt was natural, and grasped for his buttocks, feeling confidence well inside her. A low throaty chuckle left him, and she licked the sensation from his lips.

His body reacted to her advances by making their own advances.

Eyes growing wide, she sent her hand down the front of his trousers and gasped as she cupped his not yet fully erect length. Her slender fingertips barely touched when they wrapped around him. "How-?"

He ignored her question, and pressed a passion filled set of kisses and nips to her throat, drawing her hands from his trousers.

"I want you, " he growled, raking his stubbly chin up and down her neck.

"Now," she nodded, licking her bruised lips.

"We can't, they watched me come in…"

"But-"

He clasped his metal hand over her lips, and held his right index finger to his lips, letting go after she nodded in acquiescence.

"Meet me in the practice room tonight, Romanova-"

"Natalia."

His eyes grew warm, and he nodded, kissing her lips briefly, "Natya?"

Blood coloured her cheeks again, never having had the pleasure of a pet name as far as she could recall.

"Goodbye," she breathed, lighting up with joy.

He shot her once last glance and hurried out through the door.

Natalia touched her painful lips briefly, helplessly allowing them to pull into a smile.

Lying down in bed, she burst into peals of giddy laughter.


	8. Chapter 8

Natalia tread silently through the halls, seemingly gliding in the shadows between the dark grey walls, flowing with ease. Despite the amassed government funding, cobwebs had accumulated in several corners, and her brethren from the animal realm of arachnids hung from the ceiling, following the movements of their red-haired friend with their numerous eyes.

They saw a young woman in a snug Black coat, dressed to draw attention to luscious curves that form her petite form. Her lips were the colour of freshly spilled blood, and her eyes shone, flaming from within. Her quick eyes shifted, taking in the slightest twitch in the shadows, and disappeared into a room which usually resounded with pulchritudinous melodies.

They beheld the shaggy hound waiting for her, pacing around a mighty instrument which lay shut in the center of the room, hiding its many keys to beauty in its sleek black interior. The hound grew restless, it's messy matt hair framing its face gracelessly, tension radiating off is fur in rivulets. "Come on, " it murmured under its breath, eyes flickering towards an ancient wooden grandfather clock in the room, where fellow spiders lived.

The spiders averted their gazes as the red spider found her hound and locked the door behind her.

Her lips gave way to pants, trying to calm her racing heart after the silent parkour she had completed, adrenaline pumping through her veins in sheer excitement. She couldn't help but smile as she caught his furious gaze. Her heart began racing even more as he growled in a low voice, a predatory glint shimmering in his eyes, his hand itching above his dagger.

"You kept me waiting for three hours, Natya,"

Licking her upper lip, she dropped her knee-length black coat to the ground, revealing a bodacious green corset under sheer black netting, paired with a black lacy underwear strapped to over knee stockings via deep red garters.

"I was getting dressed for you," she smirked, jutting her hip out, and watching him devour her with his flaming eyes. She willed her heart to slow, not to give her away, but it refused vehemently as she rest her gaze on his ever-tightening trousers. "Or maybe… undressed."

He didn't say anything for a long time, the irritation slipping away and being replaced by a delirious amusement, when his eyes crinkled at the sight of her coy smile. Placing one hand on the piano, he jumped over it, and walked towards her, face lighting up as he drew closer.

"Where were we?" the Asset laughed shaking his head, and she ran into his arms at long last.

Their lips molded together, nipping, biting, and licking eagerly. She held his face in her hands, as he held her close, reveling in the way her body quaked in his arms, though they were yet to copulate. When she pulled away to gasp for breath, he carefully, pressed his lips all over her jaw, down her neck, across her clavicle, over the curve of her chest, before tongue delved briefly between the tight line between her breasts, as she heaved excitedly in his arms. Her hand snared into his hair, tugging playfully, eliciting a throaty groan from the Winter Soldier.

Wrapping her leg tightly around his waist, she began gyrating her hips, gasping with need, as she felt the thick bulge against her heat, through multiple layers of clothing. He pulled her other leg around how waist, and carried her over to the grand piano, lassoing her across it lengthwise, so their hips remained in contact throughout the process. She laughed breathlessly as his hands tugged impatiently over her corset, seeking to untie it.

"Damn it," he exclaimed through clenched teeth, helplessly outmaneuvered by women's lingerie.

"Want me to take it off myself?" she giggled feeling more carefree than she could recall ever being.

"No," he insisted, trying to work the strings before promptly giving up, and simply, ripping off the upper layer of silk which bound her breasts.

She gasped as the cold air brushed her chest, and his cold metal hand stroked the curve of her right breast, caused her flushed nipples harden. Her back arched off the piano, and pulled him by the collar of his usual protective attire into a passionate kiss, while working her fingers in order to free him of his buckles. Shutting her eyes, she pressed herself against him as he shrugged out of his clothes, and let them drop to the ground unceremoniously. He swatted her hand away as she reached for his trousers, instead opting to lead them to his neck. He knelt down on the piano stool and began kissing her inner thighs, his tongue hunting over her tender skin and garters, while his fingers delved under the band of her underwear and caught her nub between his flesh fingers. Gasping in surprise at the strange sensation of a man actually touching her intimately with something other than their phallus, the heat in her belly simply grew, dripping slowly onto her panties. He played worth her nub rhythmically, stroking it, and caressing her intimately with his thumb, until she was swollen with need.

"Fuck," she panted, tugging his hair again, helplessly.

Watching her breasts heave, he smirked, and ripped her panties with his metal fingers. Before she could voice a protest over the continual destruction of her clothes, he immersed his tongue into her, and began thrusting it quickly and pointedly.

His eyes glittered with mischief and amusement as Natalia arched off the piano, panting like a wanton whore, unable to control the flames that soared through her entire body, and fed to her core. She wrapped her legs around his neck, mussing his hair with her hands, pulling him near. With each passing second she neared closer and closer to her climax, and unable to help herself for the first time in her life, she rocked her hips to his rhythm. Natalia arched like a swan as powerful waves crashed through her, and her muscles contacted in the most beautiful way she had ever experienced.

"Ah," she panted falling back onto the piano after it had run its course, panting heavily.

The Asset rose from the stool, and softly nibbled on her cheek, wrapping a supportive arm around her back, holding her slightly upright.

"What was that?" she panted, pressing her hand to her heart, trying to calm its incessant pounding.

"That…" he intertwined his hand with the hand over her heart, "was oral sex."

She shook her head, her skin glistening with a layer of sweat. "No, that's if I suck on you," she insisted, blinking away the delirious state of her physical high.

"Did no one ever teach you that men can administer to women too?" he whispered into her ear

"No?" she breathed, pulling back and searching his face for any signs of sarcasm.

"They're so busy teaching you to distract your targets that they forgot to teach you pleasure," he whispered with a gentle smile though it was very apparent that he was still painfully aroused. "Don't worry, I'll teach you pleasure first. Then, I'll teach you piano tomorrow."

She stroked his hair out of his face adoringly. "That was fantastic. Thank you... for everything. "

"Don't thank n me, Natya. It was," he shot her a crooked grin, "my pleasure."

Her fingers gently stroked down his chest, and followed his pleasure trail, slipping under his boxers.

"Why did you not just fuck me like the others?" she whispered, slowly stroking his arousal.

"I'm not one of your targets, Red," he smirked, running his metal hand over the side of her neck.

"How about you fuck me now? I'm very interested to see if you're better with your tongue or your hips," she winked, tracing his lips with her tongue.

"I would, but I don't exactly have any condoms. Seemingly sharpshooters do not get equipped to avoid pregnancies."

Her eyes lit up, and a giddy laugh escaped her before she kissed him again. "Did you know, they check trainees who have begun courtesan training for diseases every week?"

"I… know that… but… what does that have to do with-?"

"Well, there's this cute little set of pills that they give me every day, one of which is quite handy..."

"Handy?" he raised an eyebrow, kissing the corner of her brow.

"I have been informed by our instructors that this handy little pill," she made a gesture, creating half a centimeter of space between her thumb and her forefinger, "prevents pregnancies."

"Is that so?" his face split into an uncontrollable grin, and he pushed the piano stool aside, spreading her legs again.

"Quite so," she leant in, nibbling on his stubbly chin, working with her nimble fingers to undo his trousers and free his limb. She kissed his throat and smiled down at the monstrously thick member, and stroked along its prominent vein, before reaching up to whisper into his ear.

"Fuck me hard tonight, and tomorrow night I will gladly choke on your length as a /truly/ satisfied woman."

"Oh?" he grinned, but she pressed a finger to his lips, and eyes him playfully.

"But only if you tell me your name. The one you refer to yourself as. Not 'The Asset', or 'The Winter Soldier'. Promise?"

He pushed her finger aside and drew her lips to his. He kissed her tenderly, and tilt her chin with his hand, bracing her back with his metal hand, and spreading her legs further with his thighs.

Gazing with fascinated wonder into her eyes, his whisper warmed her cherry lips: "Vanya."

Before she could respond, his lips crashed onto hers, muting her surprised scream of pleasure as he thrust into her receptive, wet folds in a fast languid motion.

_It finally meant something._


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Okay, so quick update cause this chapter's a bit of a filler. Pretty much just ties up a couple of loose ends before we get anywhere near the drama. Further updates will take a while, okay?

There was nothing but a dull orange light, behind Natalia's closed eyes. There was nothing in the world but a comfortable soft warmth that enveloping her. She felt as content as a baby suckling on her mother's chest, as strong arms bound her to a muscular chest, smiling as a cold sensation wiped sweat-soaked hair from her forehead.

"Good morning," he whispered, a breathy chuckle following his words, before a pair of lips touched her forehead.

"Mmh," she smiled wider, burying her face in his chest, ignoring the slightly grainy dust sticking to her leg from the floor.

"Did you sleep well?" he murmured, nibbling on her ear, flicking at her ear with his tongue, and biting her bare earlobe,

"Like I have never slept before," she yawned happily, stretching and blinking her eyes open, catching his amused gaze.

"Hello, you."

"Hello," she smiled sheepishly, kissing his Adam's apple adoringly, "Vanya."

His arms tightened fractionally around her waist, pulling her closer.

"I never grow tired of hearing you that " he murmured, pressing a kiss to her hair, and adjusting her coat which she hadn't realised he had turned into a makeshift blanket.

She pushed down on the floor in either side of him, and raised herself just enough to peck kisses all over his face, repeating the tender mantra, "Vanya, Vanya, Vanya, Vanya..."

She stared down at him, into a seemingly endless ocean with much more depth than she had ever imagined when he moved his head, so their noses were touching. Their lips curled into little smiles for a couple of endless moments.

"That was amazing," she whispered, leaning forward to kiss his forehead, only to find his lips and stubble, scratch along her neck.

"You were marvellous," he murmured, nibbling on her jaw.

"Do you want to know a secret?" she smiled, licking her lips.

"Always."

She took his face in her hands, smushing his cheeks and forcing him to look into her eyes "tonight was the only time I didn't have to fake it. Not even once. I didn't emulate motions from memory, or moan excessively to turn someone on, or use some of those," she laughed briefly, "completely ridiculous lines. It was real. It was genuine. I-" she stopped herself contemplating whether to say it or not.

"You..?" he prompted, smiling at her relentless excitement, adoration spreading through his chest.

"That was my first orgasm caused without my own fingers being involved in the process..." she whispered, looking away in embarrassment.

"Oh, Natya," he whispered fondly, taking her face in his hands, and kissing both cheeks. "What fools your assignments have been. To have such a talented, brilliant, attractive woman in their arms… They missed out on the sheer ecstasy of watching your face when you come..."He rubbed his metal hand against her cheek, and pulled her down for one more, lengthy, deep kiss.

* * *

Glukhova licked her lips and walked through the basement corridors, silently as usual after a late-night visit in Master Zaccharin's humble rooms. Just as she turned the corner, she saw movement. The unmistakeable red-haired spy popped out of one of the practice rooms, scantily clad, with a coat loosely wrapped around her, in an attempt at modesty. Glukhova furrowed her brows, recalling that the courtesan portion of the little Widow's training was on hold.

Her eyes flashed, as a couple of moments later, the Winter Soldier stepped out of the practice room. His hair was as messy as always, but there was a minute limp in his step as he walked away, adjusting his belt buckle.

_Is that how it is? _Glukhova thought darkly, her lips twitching as a plan took shape in her mind.

* * *

"Your new pupil, Romanova," a member of staff declared to the Winter Soldier, whispering into his ear and handing him a clip board. The Asset quickly scanned the paper and nodded, handing the clipboard back with a huff of annoyance. The administrator stepped to the edge of the training mat and watched Romanova take up a position at the opposite end from her tutor.

How gaze swept over her briefly with disinterest, and imperatively announced, "Weapon room, now." he walked off without taking a single moment to check if she was following.

She tailed him immediately, heading after him, understanding the need to keep a professional distance, even though her fingers itched to touch him. He flung the door open, and entered the desolate room, reaching for a small hand-held gun, spinning around immediately as the door shut behind him.

Natalia leant against the door, smiling knowingly. "Hello."

He crossed the distance between them and pressed a hungry, desperate kiss to her lips, licking her delicious lips, and holding her face appreciatively.

"Does this mean no weapon training," she smirked, pressing her hands against his broad chest.

"It means I want another kiss before we shoot targets."

Her eyes lit up as an idea struck her. "A kiss?" she stood on her tiptoes and kissed his lips briefly. "Here?"

Tilting her head she pecked at his jaw. "Here?"

Her teeth raked over his light beard, sucking on his Adam's apple.

"Or maybe, " in a quick motion, she darted past him, so that he was up against the door, and his trousers fell to the floor, with his belt stretched out between his hands.

She dropped to her knees, pulling down his boxers, and kissed his knees, trailing up along his thighs, pressing him into the door with one hand while the other softly pumped his length.

"Nat- you shouldn't-" he whispered, trembling at her touch.

She looked up at him, a dark amusement in her eyes. "Have you ever had a courtesan work her magic before?" she smirked, cupping his balls with one hand, and pressing his sensitive spot.

"No-oh!" he gasped.

She nodded, clearly pleased, and dug one of her hands down her own trousers, stimulating herself. "Do you want to?"

He bucked his hips towards her in response and tangled his hands in her hair, drawing her closer.

A ripple of pleasure ripped through her, and her lips began their work, kissing and sucking, tracing along him, enjoying the pulsation of the blood that ran through him.

Vanya clenched his teeth to keep silent, and dug his metal hand into his thigh, where a purple bruise quickly began to bloom.

She grazed his tip with her teeth and inch by inch, she took him in, before beginning her masterful bobbing, as taught to her by the greatest of all courtesans. Her fingers kept working his spot, and before long, he came for her.

Natalia drew back, standing upon her tiptoes, so that she could look straight into his eyes. He looked panicked, confused, and without all control, as she smiled coyly, and swallowed.

Licking his lips, she pushed her tongue into his beckoning mouth, ran it along his teeth and over the roof of his mouth, before finally drawing away.

"My delicious, Vanya. I could drink your gifts all day long," she smirked, still working away at her clit, and arching her chest against his as an orgasm finally rolled through her as well.

For the first time in his life, the Winter Solider stood motionless, watching a woman, merely awestruck, by her magnanimous magnificence. Completely unable to function.

"I keep my promises," she winked, and pressed a little kiss to his throat.

* * *

"We begin by making the following extremely clear: the piano is a versatile instrument. It can be as gentle as an intimate caress, and as explosive as a firing squad. You must learn to appreciate it. As a training field spy you must learn to blend in when necessary, and stand out when needed. This is the case for each and every one of your ten fingers. There is not a single digit that is more important than the whole, but each stroke must be perfectly in time with the others. Do you understand this, Romanova?"

"Yes, sir, " Natalia chimed, itching to touch the splendid ivory keys and their mysterious black counterparts.

"What is the difference between the black and white keys?" she asked curiously, eyes flickering to Vanya.

"There is no real difference. Each key, whether white or black contributes a different note, a different nuance to the music." He pressed an array of keys, at first with seemingly no rhyme or reason, but then when he played them together as a chord, a beautiful merge of dissonance, warmed the air with peace.

"First, before you consider any songs, you must learn to play in different keys."

"Do you mean, play _on_ different keys?" she asked, lightly touching the keyboard and relishing the touch of the smooth wood beneath her fingers.

"That too," he pressed his lips together to suppress a chuckle. "Watch carefully." His right hand played a small pattern, pressing along eight white keys, smoothly slipping his thumb and middle finger below and above to smooth the notes. "Your turn."

Natalia took a deep breath and copied the process exactly, huffing out in irritation as it sounded choppier than his playing.

"Now, for the other hand." he demonstrated the C major scale for his left hand, and then watched her repeat it.

"Both hands together," he nodded approvingly. She began steadily and crossed the fingers on her left hand too early. "Not yet, try again."

He played the scale for her again, extra slowly this time, and watched her shakily emulate him.

"Was that correct?"

"Perfect," he nodded. Under the piano he gently placed his hand on hers and squeezed encouragingly.

"The next scale is..."

The rest of the evening flew past in a flurry of scales and arpeggios, playing together until night had fallen, as they forgot about everything in the world apart from their common goal to make music- or was it making love?

Both.

Always both.

A/N: Thanks to all my regular readers for sticking with me so far. We're nearly at the half-way mark. The story will start taking off soon. :3


	10. Interlude

_**Interlude**_

A/N:This is not strictly within our story, but its a look at the world in the youth of Glukhova, and around the time that Nat was a fetus...  
Believe me, it's a very important interlude

_"She is perfect," a stout little man with rimmed glasses whispered to his colleague, reading over the charts beside a pale woman lying on a make-shift hospital bed. Brown curls framed her pale sleeping face which hid radiant green eyes, wild and beautiful beyond words. Her pouty lips were shut, as she lay under the influence of a surgically induced comma in the underbelly of Moscow's biggest hospital, freshly transferred from the gynaecology department after she was medicated for an inspection. _

_"How many months along is she? " the colleague asked, peering down over her exposed belly, whose rotund form was still only budding, but seemed very profound on her very light stature, _

_"Three months," the bespectacled man read off the file, adjusting his glasses and sniffing. _

_"Very good," the taller man nodded encouragingly, picking up a little liquid vial and adding sucking it into a needle. "Maybe this foetus will make a large contribution to the red and black rooms."_

_"Considering the mother, let us hope it is a female. A female with those features would surely be the next Glukhova," he sighed fondly, recalling how the famous young black widow had become a courtesan to Tsar Nicholas II and arranged the information required for the assassination of his family over a decade prior to this night._

_"It is such a shame that she is genetically defect. Can you even imagine the types we could breed if her eggs weren't all corrupted? Those offspring would be magnificent. Fierce, beautiful, naturally gifted at subterfuge… So many possibilities…"_

_"I know Zola, I know. You keep reminding me...Every single time we do this to someone…"_

"_You know its true," Zola sniffed. He pulled out a handkerchief and blew his nose noisily, before stuffing it back into his labcoat._

_The tall man sighed and briefly set the injection back onto a trolley loaded with surgical equipment. There were scalpels, tweezers, and metal threads, but nothing reeked danger like the unnaturally bright red liquid sloshing around in the giant injective syringe._

_The tall man spread the woman's legs, while Zola made a note on his clip board, coveted with a fresh form:_

_"Hydra Longevity study: foetus 67. Carrier: Maria Romanova."_

* * *

_Maria cradled the little girl in her arm, sweat and dirt from 34 hours of labour caking her forehead. The child was a grimy little thing, covered in goo, and screaming with her wrinkly little face contorted desperately, under the maroon mop of hair. Her eyes were squeezed tight with effort, but even like that, Maria knew she had beautiful eyes._

_"Sasha, look," she whispered holding the small head with a practiced arm, glancing briefly at her husband who entered the labour room, running past the midwife who finally let him in. _

_"It's a girl, angel. We have a girl. " _

_A surprised grin spread across his high boned features, his red moustache and beard curling with the tug of his joyous lips. He hurried to stand beside her, and bent down carefully, gazing adoringly at the bundle._

"_She's a little screamer," Maria laughed lightly, kissing the gooey hair. "She takes after you in that respect," she grinned, looking up at him. _

_"No," he shook his head, unable to stop his stupid grin. "She's perfect," he insisted, carefully taking her from Maria, and kissing the red little nose. "She's just like you, Maria."_

"_Oh it hardly matters, we can spend the rest of our life figuring out whether she loks like me or you."_

"_You're right," he grinned. "Welcome to the world, Natalia."_

* * *

_A supple woman around the age of thirty five, lay atop an unnatural red beast, her hips rolling up and down, up and down, up and down. Her breasts bounced with each moment along the beast's red shaft. Its feral hands wrapped around her hips, thrusting up into her, frenzied with need, and desperately demanding friction, in its wordless state of , their bestial hips met over and over again, stopping only as their climax rolled through them both._

_She tumbled down onto him after they were spent, nipping briefly on his chest. His lips curved in triumph over his fleshless face, as he whispered at last, "Hail Hydra."_

_"You promised me a serum, Schmidt," the beautiful woman spoke in perfect German, bearing the fruit of years of labour. Her hands caressed his skull-like head, holding back her gag-reflex when she looked at him once again. She could never look at him for more than 15 seconds at a time, always darting around with her gaze in response. _

_"Zola succeeded with one man, but he was stolen by that American captain. If Zola had been a little more careful, we would still have the details of the successful trial. We'll recreate it, Alexandra. And then you'll have your perfect army of little eternal widows."_

_The dark lips of Alexandra Glukhova pulled into a wide smile._

"_Thank you darling. I don't know how I would cope without you."_

_That night, she dreamt peaceful dreams of a world filled with beauty. The beauty of destruction and chaos, leaving nothing but the superior race of those born for the red and black rooms. She dreamt of spiders, scuttling over the flesh of Johan Schmidt. Running dangerously quickly in their multitudes, crawling over his deep red flesh until none of it could be seen under layers and layers of black spiders, devouring him, and leaving behind a perfect little figure. A child to start her empire. _

_A/N: _What did you think? Tell me your thoughts


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Hey guys! Thank you for reading everything so far, and for all the feedback! So, everything until the interlude was essential phase one of this story, as of now we are officially in phase two. Its time to start the descent into chaos.

_It rushed passed her ears like waves, crashing and engulfing her. Slippery little drops beat out against mighty rivers, trying to pave a way but failing. The wave of music glided through a thin man's fingers fluidly, and a little girl stared up at a black surface, making faces at the bouncy red-haired girl in a flouncy dress and white tights. She stuck her tongue out and laughed as the girl in the surfaced laughed back silently. She did not see the thin man's lips quirk at the laughter which sounded to him like the pealing of looked around and noticed that a pair of legs was visible as the owner of those legs sat on a stool, leather-bound feet peddling away at large brass globules connected to the pretty black surface._

_"Where is she, angel? " a clear warm voice calls, another pair of feet appearing around the shiny black shelter, these new legs covered by a floor length soft fabric which sparkled and shone so alluringly..._

_She reached out her chubby little hand as a dulcet male voice replies, and she grabbed the soft velvet, grinning up toothily at the beautiful brunette figure with the green eyes. She tugged happily and watched the woman, who sent a jolt of warmth through her, bend down._

_"There you are," the woman cooed adoringly, picking her up. Though for a moment the sight below her causes her to whimper, as the strong warm arms wrap around her protectively everything else falls away, and there is only warmth. _

_"I love you, Natalia," she croons pressing a warm, wet kiss to her forehead. _

_"I love you," the voice repeats, though it starts morphing. Contorting. _

"Natalia," Vanya whispers stroking her cheek tenderly. "Wake up, Red. "

"What did you say?" she yawned blinking awake, and stretching in his protective arms.

"I said, 'wake up', " he smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Before that," she insisted, turning in bed to face him.

"Good morning, Natya."

He gave her a crooked grin, blue eyes shimmering in the morning sun. "What did you think I said?"

"Nothing…" she murmured, hiding her face in his chest. She kissed his chest, trying to distract him.

"Come now, Red. After everything in the past year, you won't tell me this little detail? "

"It's embarrassing," she mumbled.

"It's probably not as bad as you think… Tell me, or I'll forever imagine it is something worse than it actually is…"

She peeked up, through a curtain of hair, and whispered, "I thought you said you loved me."

Whatever he had expected, this was not it. His lips pulled together, turning into a frown, as he looked down at his precious Natya.

"Love is for children, Red. Not for people like us."

She nodded, hiding her eyes from him, a strange sense of desolation chasing through her. Perhaps he was right. Surely love could only be a weakness in this business? And was weakness not always a fatal flaw? Surely he is just looking out for their survival. Of course he was. Vanya is an intelligent assassin, he thinks like an assassin, then as a lover- And yet... she could not stop the silent tear from sliding down her cheek.

He immediately moved, so that he was lying on top of her, keeping his weight on his arms, and kissing the tear away. "Natalya, I'm sorry to make you sad. I do not believe in love. I do not think you can keep falling in and out of love, and search all life for partners who will care for you infinitely enough to lay their life for your arms."

Her eyes became glassy and wet as she looked into his, only to find him smiling back sadly. He pressed his nose to hers, and tilt his head slightly.

"Of course," she blinked rapidly, and smiled half-heartedly.

"I don't believe in love. I believe in destiny. There is no point in always searching. If you find one fit that you know is perfect, then it was meant to be."

"Destiny?"

He nodded, "I have found my destiny in you." His lips sought hers, and he kissed her tenderly before pulling away again, gazing into her eyes adoringly once more. "We are not normal people, Red. We live, we fight, we make sacrifices," he glanced at the metal hand stroking her shoulder. "We don't grow old together, living in a house with a white picket fence, with children at our feet. The only reason they've kept me out of dangerous missions recently is because they know I'm the only one capable of training you. I am the only one dangerous enough to teach you survival. I am currently still a valuable tool because of it, but soon I'll become disposable enough… You are the one that they pin their dreams to."

"Vanya... You-I know we can't have those things…I don't think I want those things- But...you know you are more than that, right?" she asked uncertainly, her eyebrows furrowing with worry.

"More to you," he amended, stroking her cheek, "Not them. They will probably send me away soon, and I won't see you for a long time. Maybe even never-"

"Never- ! Don't you dare say that, Vanya! You will come back to me, you _must_ always come back to me, just as I will always come back to you. I refuse to lose my guardian- my angel," she spoke with a frown. Why did that endearment sound so familiar...?

"I am far from an angel," he chuckled, pulling her close. "But it's wonderful to know there is someone waiting for my safe return, even if my loss will then force pain onto you-"

"Vanya? Why are you saying these things? Are you leaving me behind? "

"No... It's just a very bad feeling, Red. Something is happening in the underbelly of the Academy, and it's unsettling... There have been fresh jitters from the Masters. They keep watching me with freshly speculative look... Perhaps they wish to do further field work with me, or maybe... More changes-"

"Angel," the word came so naturally once again, "Perhaps... Perhaps we should run away. Together. You and I. Run across the world, find ourselves that white picket fence. Our life would not be thrilling and in service, but maybe-"

"We can't," he replied staunchly. "They will always find us, Natya, Always. There is no escaping the Academy. "

"I know they'll keep looking, but surely we can find a good cover, and keep moving-"

"We would always live in fear. How is that any different to how it will be here?"

"It...We… We could. .. Have regular jobs and a relatively calm, blissful life together. Sure, most of our training would be useless, but, " her lips curved up slightly, "We could have a fluffy dog, chasing around our cat... An aquarium, some birds, a tank of spiders-"

"Are we starting a pet shop?" he chuckled happily, sitting upright against the wall, and pulling her into his lap.

"If we scrape things together, we could buy a pleasant vehicle, and we could become teachers. You could start a Centre for teaching self-defence, I could teach ballet and music. Maybe moonlight as a whore when money's tight-"

"No wife of mine would be a whore. I would take shifts in a building company, or maybe take on a few hit jobs..."

"Wife?" she asked incredulously.

"Natya, did you not realise that you were describing a marriage?" he smirked, "All that was missing in your description were two gold rings, and a baby. "

"a baby-marriage? I-I didn't mean- "she blinked flabbergasted, stumbling over her words. "I took it for granted that I would never have any."

"Do you want them, though? " he asked, intertwining their fingers, and pressing them to his lips.

"I don't know," she furrowed her brow in distress, unaccustomed to not knowing answers. Staring at the scars on his chest, she traced them with her mind's eye in order to calm herself.

"I don't either," he smiled affectionately, pressing their hands to his heart. "We'll simply have to wait and see what life holds in store for us."

They locked eyes for a long time in perfect silence before she sighed, "I suppose we won't leave? "

"I'm sorry," he nodded. "But Nastya, if you ever get the opportunity for freedom, take it."

"But you said-"

"It's easier to hide one person, rather than two."

"I can't just leave you behind, Vanya!"

"I will never be free, Red. They probably track my locations with my arm, -I hope I have no in-built self-destruct sequence... But you," he cupped her cheek adoringly. "You can have the world, Red."

"But you said that you are my destiny," her voice quivered, trying to lock onto his gaze, but failing,

His lips pressed into a pained smile, "You are mine, I might not be yours. "

"Vanya..."

"Please don't be disheartened. I will always be by your side as long as I can be. But if the time for separation comes, and it might, I need you to find a way out."

"But when happiness is only in your arms? "

"Then look for other arms for comfort, and not for your destiny. Please, Natya. Promise that you will seek happiness. Always seek happiness."

"I promise," she breathed shakily. "But I want you."

"You have me for now, isn't that enough?"

It wasn't, but that didn't stop them from launching once more into making fervent love, like there was no future.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: This is a semi-chapter. As in, it's too short to be a chapter, and it doesn't fit with either the former or next chapter. But since it's important to the overall picture, here it is!

"Eastern portion of the block, viper," a male voice commanded, his voice becoming grainy over the intercom.

"I'm on it."

A woman clad in pure black, whose head was lit by flames and whose ruby lips shimmered like venom, leaped across the skyline. A pair of metal hook sped from her wrists, embedding into the walls of the office building across from her.

She leapt, as if dancing, and her feet found the floor after her body slinked gracefully through an open window, five floors below the hook. On the tip of her toes, she bound over desks, chairs, and sleeping office birds, launching towards the open window on the other side of the building. Lady fire, jumped down 4 storeys, landing on the pavement, with a forward tucked roll to take the impact of landing off her slender wrists, and standing upright, blocking the way of the target.

The target stumbled, and whipped about, nearly losing balance, clutching her purse behind her back, grasping her pearl necklace.

"Please- I- I didn't do anything. Don't hurt me!"

Lady fire cocked a brow briefly, clearly unimpressed, and ran straight for the target, jumping and bounding over her, using the target's shoulders to vault off of. With a resounding smack, the target fell to the ground, scrambling helplessly, head swinging quickly from left to right, searching for the agent in the darkness. Seeing no sign of her assailant, who lurked in the crevice of a window, she expertly rose to her feet, her wrist raised to her lips, and she spoke into her watch, all sense of panic and innocent anxiety wiped from her features.

"We have been compromised."

Through static in her ear, lady fire heard the voice utter the final command, and pulled a thin midnight gun, equipped with the extra-long snout of a silencer.

Once more, lady fire leapt, and this time, when the wet thud echoed through the empty street, blood drizzled from an accurate little bullet hole right between the eyes of the target.

The purse and lady fire were nowhere to be seen.

* * *

Up on a rooftop, the Winter soldier rose, setting down his unused sniper rifle, hiding a grimace under his mat black mask. He slinked away in silence: none must know he was there to protect her in the case of her failure.

* * *

Natalia dropped the purse onto the table, in front of her red-test administrator. Not a hair was out of place, as she stood before him, the perfect image of a human lacking humanity and compassion, with her stone-cold expression.

The spindly man stopped scratching his straw coloured moustache, and took the purse into his gloved hands. He eyed her briefly, and opened it up. Inside the purse lay a little wallet, with a small family picture of the target, a man, and a child who bore resemblance to both, with a small distinct birthmark over his neck.

The man carefully shut the wallet, making sure Natalia had not seen the image during his brief haphazardly threw the purse into the drawer, and locked it shut, carefully placing the key back into his pocket.

"Did you look inside the purse?" he asked, raising a questioning brow though indifference was evident in his features.

"No Sir. Termination, extraction and delivery. No excess actions as instructed. "

He nodded curtly, stamping her file with a bright red "pass", before placing it into a suitcase by the foot of the table.

"Excellent, Romanova. You have officially passed the red test. Await agent status imminently. A favourable report will be conveyed to the Acadmeny."

"Thank you, sir," she spoke curtly, expression completely blank though an inkling of guiltwelled inside her. _No. She was a target. I did as instructed. I did my duty to the motherland._

"Dismissed."

Across town, a house began burning from the basement to the attic, and a little boy with a birthmark across his neck, lay fast asleep in the arms of a shadowy agent, who disappeared as quickly as he had arrived, whispering into his intercom, "Hydra Longevity study: subject 184. Extraction complete. "

A/N: Can anyone guess where this story is heading?


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: To the guest from last chapter and anyone else who is wondering why I've called him Vanya in this fic, and not Yasha like most buckynat fics, please go check out _wintergaydar*tumblr*com/post/71487710917/hello-class-today-i-would-like-to-tell-you-why._

"Agent Romanov," the Asset whispered playfully in her ear, as he caressed her bare body with his flesh hand, running it up and down her bottom, ruffling the crisp sheets of her new room in the Agent's wing.

* * *

Earlier that night a light knock resounded from Natalia's window, as she stood in her underwear assessing her reflection in her new floor length mirror, smirking as she held the formfitting green dress against her chest. She spun around, dropping her dress in the process, and raised her arms to a defensive stance. Her lover grinned like the Cheshire cat, tapping lightly on the windows again with a wink. It was freezing cold, but he had balanced along the ledge on the outer wall cradling a bottle of champagne he had stolen during a recent mission. Natalia playfully rolled her eyes, and slid the window up, stepping aside, for his entrance.

"Hello," he smirked with his smoulder, as he sat with his legs dangling into her room.

"Hello angel."

She walked over and kissed his freezing lips, licking them warm, taking a careful seat in his comfortable lap, trying not to tip them both out of the window. Goose bumps rose all over her exposed flesh.

"Do you need a little warming up?" he smirked, tracing soft circles over her thigh with his left hand, as he bent over and nibbled on her nose.

"I could, but later," she nipped at his cheek, and pulled back with a smile. "How did you get here? All my neighbours must have seen your climb," she whispered tightening her grip around his neck fractionally.

"Ah, don't you worry about that. You have a very understanding neighbour who is highly invested in our incredibly fruitful love life," he grinned.

"You're my neighbour?" she laughed with disbelief. Could luck be any more on their side?

"Yes, Agent Romanova," he saluted her playfully.

Her eyes lit up and she beamed, biting her lower lip like a gleeful little child.

"I still can't believe it," she grinned. "Pinch me, I feel like I'm dreaming."

"As you n wish," his right palm pressed flat against her stomach and moved up, until his thumb and forefinger punched her nipple through her bustier, and twisted it slightly.

"Hey!" she slapped his arm lightly, laughing playfully, "that's not what I meant!"

"But I bet it's so much better," he breathed in a low voice which he knew made her toes curl.

"Slow down soldier, we've got a bottle to deal with first. Fortunately… we have no glasses..."

"I know exactly what I'm going to kick my champagne off of..." he whispered stroking her navel appreciatively.

"Better get started on that mission, soldier."

"As you wish, agent."

* * *

"I love it when you call me that," she whispered, kissing his sticky throat, recalling how he had panted the word as they climaxed together. "I think I'll get all hot and bothered for the rest of my life, whenever someone calls me 'agent', you naughty, naughty man. "

"You think you have a problem? I'm the one who will sport an erection for the rest of my life at the drop of a word."

"Oh, r_ea_lly?" she grinned, stroking down along his chest, letting her hands delve down, cupping him and stroking his thighs.

"Agent?" she breathed in as seductive a voice as she could muster, a cross between and outright moan and a sex-kitten style baiting voice.

Surprisingly enough, the little soldier stirred, and swiftly became involved with her sticky, red lips.

* * *

"Begin the WinterWidow protocol," Alexandra Glukhova instructed her assistant, smiling down as she read the files about the exceptionally useful couple once more.

* * *

_"I love you, Natalia," a female voice kept echoing as she slipped further and further into the lap of darkness, enveloped by its calming cold. Her teeth chattered incessantly, promising to shatter the moment she lost her grip. She looked at her hand, and saw that it was wound around a firm black rod. The metal rod extended downwards: a railing down a set of stairs. She wound and wound following the stairs, leaving drops of fire after each step, following the voice. The steps seemed endless and painful, her feet weighing down, fighting her will. They didn't want to follow the path. Her flesh screamed danger. She turned around briefly, and saw the lights fall into place in the shape of the KGB crest. The crest pulsed, the flames forming a thick wall briefly, before contorting into the Academy's crest. The flames simmered to a small blue flame, seemingly innocuous._

_Fear ignited, and her heart felt like it was being roasted in her chest, the flickers of fire from her bosom shining a path down a corridor made of nothing but darkness. _

_The light shone brighter and brighter, intensifying as she came closer to the open door at the end of the corridor. The light became blinding, and she covered her eyes to shield herself. When she opened her eyes, she lay on an operating table, but something felt wrong. Very wrong. _

_Everything was so much bigger. She blinked groggily, and above the light, in the metal surface of _their_ equipment, she saw a little girl, terrified and strapped down, with a black metal appliance strapped around her head, and a mouth guard between her pale lips. _

_"-it was such a shame, " a male voice spoke from her left. Though she strained to turn her head, she could not make out his face. "Such a beautiful mother. Such a fantastic spy."_

_"You only think it's a shame because you never got to sleep with her," another voice chuckled from her other side. _

_"If only she had not left to be with that pianist... She would not have had to die for the cause... They could have used someone else's offspring..."_

_"Don't you have any idea how difficult it is to find children for this program? We can only take the ones we inject during pregnancy, Kedrov, and we need genetic information about the parents in advance in order to do so," the second person grumbled._

_"I know, I know...But there had to be other female agents who defected who could have been used?"_

_"We are using them, so stop your complaints, comrade."_

_"I don't know how long we can keep this up... Sooner or later we must change strategy-"_

_"Not just yet. Come now. Let's wipe little Romanova, and give her some patriotic red room memories. Don't accidentally give her the black room ones, otherwise we'll have to wipe her again, and you know how damaging multiple wipes can be... "_

_"Of course, of course," the speaker sulked, turning a lever._

_A hot flash of pain shot through every fibre of her being. _

The pain bled through her bones as she gasped awake, sweat-stained and cold. The words kept ringing, echoing, reverberating back and forth like an insistent puppy begging for attention, as her heart beat furiously.

"What's wrong, red?" Vanya, yawned, sleepily stroking her back, eyes blinking open in her darkened room.

"I remember," she whispered, "I remember everything."


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Thank you for all your kind words and for still reading my shoddy little fic! Here's a new chapter because you guys gave me motivation to edit. Warning: Another dream sequence

"If they really did all of that, what do you propose we do? We can hardly storm into an office and demand to receive answers," Vanya pointed out, fixing his leather glove. He grabbed the boxers hanging luxuriously on a wooden chair, and shifted in bed in order to slip them on.

"Why not?" she insisted, a disconcerting mad gleam in her eyes.

"Natya...?"

"All we need to do is to wait for the right assignment." Her features set with conviction, and not even Vanya could argue with her in that state.

As the weeks proceeded, Natalia was sent off onto several termination missions, some alongside her lover, others not. She fought, she danced, she beguiled, she disappeared into the shadows, taking on whatever shape was desired. She purred like a kitten and bit like a tigress, pumping her poison into the targets using whatever means was necessary. Whether gentle as a poisoned kiss, or the brutal smash of skulls against railings, she did whatever was necessary for the successful completion of her missions.

She was a viper, she was a beast, she was the reigning Black Widow of the Academy.

All other students, it seemed, had failed at some point or another, or were transferred away, and were not heard off again. Natalia presumed the worst for them, but it did not deter her at all. She kept working relentlessly, and seeking snippets of comfort, so preoccupied with learning, training and executing, that she hardly noted that her abdomen felt fuller, thicker, heavier even. She did not notice the smirks of her doctors during her weekly check-ups as she lay in the usual narcotics induced sleep, during the checks. She noticed the thickening of her monthly blood, but forgot again once she felt lightness return.

This ritual of filling and emptying more than in the years before carried on for months, while the Soviet soul mates waited for an opportunity.

* * *

_"Sasha, something's not right. I can't shake the feeling that they're watching us," Maria whispered to her husband, as they sat together around the breakfast table. Little Natalia bounced in her mother's lap impatiently, and tugged on her sleeve. _

_"Me hungwy mama," the pudgy girl insisted, her eyebrows pulling together petulantly._

_Without answering, Maria brought a spoon filled with puree to her daughter's little mouth, never taking her eyes off her husband. He set down the newspaper he was perusing, folding it with meticulous care, and ran a hand through his trimmed beard._

_He took off his reading glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I would leave with you, but you know my patron would forbid it. I can't just leave everything behind like that, or we will lose all comforts for our little sunshine."_

_He reached across the table and ruffled Natalia's little curls, smiling back at the beaming baby whose drool ran down he unassuming chin._

_"Papa!" she clapped happily, bouncing eagerly and stretching her arms out for him. Maria shot him a meaningful look, struggling to contain the little whirlwind in her arms._

_"Oh all right," he sighed happily, pulling her into his lap, and hugging her close. "Should we deprive her all these comforts based on a feeling, love?"_

_"Sasha, you forget that I worked for them. I know how they work. They may have willingly allowed me to leave, but they will try to make sure the skills they equipped me worth don't fall into the wrong hands," she whispered softly, while Sasha covered Natalia's ears. "We must go undercover. We- maybe go to West, take on new names, find new patrons-"_

_"You make it seem like it's easy to find a patronage," Sasha whispered back, slight irritation welling into his voice. _

_"I know you worked for years to find this patronage, but unless we cut ties, we will never be able to escape. Darling, you can work in hotels again, playing for the wealthy, and I'll go back to selling my body-"_

_"No." _

_The word hung point blank in the air. _

_"What do you mean, no?" sure stated at him, her eyes slitting, her lips pressed into a line, and her pose shifting forward, becoming feral._

_"Don't you dare try to intimidate me," he shrugged. "You and I both know that we belong only to each other. I don't want you to back to the days where many men pranced around with you on their arms, acting like they won your affections with years of labor when all they did was pay for your attentions. You are mine, Maria. I am yours. Go into teaching if you must work. I will take on as many professions as it takes to get us through," he promised tenderly, glancing down and stroking Natalia's cheek. She in turn looked up at him adoringly and nuzzled how chest. _

_"Does that mean what I think it means?"_

_"Give me a week to get my affairs in order, and to sell some things. We will need a lot of money and gold," he nodded thoughtfully. _

_"I will attain some fake travelling documents," Maria spoke somberly. "Let us leave on Saturday. The people will be bustling, and it will be easy to slip through the crowds undetected. "_

_"I hope it will be enough."_

_"This is our only chance."_

Tears rolled down Natalia's cheeks as she woke up in her empty bed, still feeling the warm, protective arms of her father like a phantom limb.

_I will make them pay, Papa. They will all pay._

_A/N:_ I hope you enjoyed the latest chapter. All sadness related hate-messages are welcome. Also the next chapter gives us the big reveal about the dastardly things the red room has been doing over the years... Curious? Tell me if you have any theories. I love outlandish theories


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Here it is, the big reveal. Not that big, or exciting really. I hope the wait was worth it.

A/N trigger warning: unwanted sexual advances by old lady seductresses

Bullets hailed from all directions, raining down on the Winter Soldier and the Black widow. Their backs pressed against each other, as they returned fire, with the heavy machinery cradled in his arms, and two sharp shooter pistols in her hands. She dropped the empty pistols and swiftly pulled out two more from her utility belt, grimacing as a bullet scraped her cheek.

"Run left on my command. I'll keep them busy for now. Ambush them worth the widows bite, and then meet at the check point."

"Yes, sir," she responded automatically, throwing a dagger at an assalent running towards them. The dagger lodged itself into his throat, and he fell to his knees, trying to desperately pull it out. Following a quick glance, one of her bullets perforated his heart, and he fell over, convulsing.

"Now!"

She spun around and began shooting at the same targets as the Winter Soldier, as she ran through the obstacle course of dead bodies on her left. Bullets trailed after her, but every single attacker fell down, dead, within moments of their shots.

She ran faster, slipping through the shadows, avoiding the agents that were trying to take control of the Academy, until she reached a corridor filled with enemy agents. Natalia flung herself forward, sliding across the corridor on her knees. She threw little metal discs which clung to the goons, and electrocuted them, so that one by one, they dropped to their knees, convulsing with as the current flowed through them. Jumping to her feet, making use of her remaining momentum, she flipped sideways and kicked the next assailant in the face, knocking him out, and taking his guns in a swift movement before slipping them into her holsters.

Her eyes darted around for several moments, chasing down the cause of the alarm. At last her eyes locked onto the office which had been infiltrated, its guards already down.

The records department.

A feral grin spread over Natalia's lips, as she finally had the opportunity she had been looking for. Silently she entered the room, checking for small tracking devices or traps, but quickly finding that beyond the heavy, thick, shielded doors, there were just cabinets upon cabinets, and no additional safety measures in place. In the far corner, a female spy clad in American military dress, with an Eagle emblem on her shoulder, leafed through several folders, memorizing information with each flick of her eyes.

"Drop the files, or you're dead, " Natalia announced in perfect English, the way Vanya had taught her, pointing the stolen gum directly at the back of the infiltrators head. She removed the safety as a warning, an impassive frown etched on her lips. "Now."

"You don't understand, " the woman responded with a strong New England American accent as she responded in fluent Russian, "We're trying to protect international peace and stop hydra from taking over with an army of super soldiers..." She dropped the papers and slowly turned to face Natalia, her mouth dropping open at the sight of Natalia's cold steely expression.

"The Black widow," she whispered in disbelief, in such a way that it could nearly have been mistaken for veneration.

"How did you-"

"You're the epicentre of their work! Join us! They've been using you-Stealing from you- Spying on you and the soldier-".

"You know about us?" she exclaimed in a whisper pressing the gun straight over the intruder's heart, pushing her up against the wall.

"Yes- from the file. They've observed you both for years, and launched protocol WinterWidow, " the woman responded coolly, though her pulse was racing.

"What is that protocol? " Natalia took hold of the intruder's neck and dug her nails in harshly, squeezing just a little to assert her power.

"A breeding program."

"A breeding program, " she deadpanned, staring at the woman.

"They've harnessed your fertilized embryos which resulted from your secret relationship and are implanting them into surrogates."

"Embr- I haven't been pregnant! I take pills to avoid pregnancies," Natalia growled, tightening her grasp ever so slightly.

"Have you recently had any seduction assignments?"

"No, but-"

"The files say that your pills have been replaced with fertility pills to maximize embryonic collection per menstrual cycle. They've used you both to build super soldiers. They're trying to harness the effects of the serum they used to give the winter soldier healing properties, with the results of the longevity serum they injected into you, because both changed your genetic make-up, and are now mingl-"

"I haven't been injected with a longevity serum," Natalia insisted, her patience growing thin.

"It's all in the files. Just look! Your offspring are the perfect subjects for their army. They're breeding your children, researching on your embryos- taking your children away to turn them into perfect weapons-"

A bullet whizzed past Natalia's ear and embedded straight between the intruder's eyes.

"She talked too much."

Natalia spun around immediately, both hands on her gun, pointing it up at none other than the mistress of seduction.

"Is it true? " Natalia hissed with her body taut and ready to pounce. The dark room was lit by the solitary flash light beside the messy stack of files and the moonlight streaming through the open windrow behind Glukhova.

"You're a good agent, Romanova, what do you think is true?"

"She's s foreign agent trying to recruit me for their cause against our mother, Russia," Natalia answered immediately.

"And who knows very well that you are one of our greatest assets, Romanova. She knows that with you on our side, there is endless potential for our land. "

"Me? " she raised an eyebrow, though her voice was shaking. "Why? I'm just a regular field agent. "

"Because you, child, are everything that an agency could desire in an agent. " Glukhova's words weaved like honey, as she slowly walked towards Natalia with her hands raised. "You are beautiful, strong, intelligent, quick-witted... And most importantly…without scruples. "

"Without a soul? "She asked in a small voice, lowering her gun.

"Soul? Where did you get that idea from," Glukhova laughed softly, taking the gun from her. "Has the asset been dripping poetry during his missions? Souls, God, and angels are the things off foreign folk-lore. There is nothing predetermined in life, and there is nothing after it. There is only this."

"Is that why there is a longevity serum? Because you're afraid of death?" Natalia whispered, looking down with dejection.

"We Widows don't fear anything, but those embryos may be the key to true immortality once we find the Tesseract again."

Natalia locked the name away in the back of her mind, and nodded.

"So it's true. You know about us. You knew all along."

"Of course is true," Glukhova whispered walking around her, stroking Natalia's neck with her wrinkling hands. "Did you really think we wouldn't notice if our two most prized investments started an affair? All the late night meetings, the exchanged glances, all that smell of sex in rooms you left? Did you think it was luck that you had so many private classes taught by him, so many two-man missions together, your rooms, wall-to-wall?"

Natalia said nothing.

"Now that you know, you might as well do it officially." Glukhova's hands slid around Natalia's waist, as Glukhova rest her head on Natalia's shoulder. "Be the whore I trained you to be." Glukhova's voice became a bar whisper, as she cupped both of Natalia's breasts, and frisked them slowly, causing the hairs on the back of Natalia's neck to rise. She pulled Natalia's hips against her own, and slipped one hand down Natalia's trousers, stroking Natalia intimately. A cold sweat trailed down Natalia's back, reliving the panic she had felt during the first punishment she had witnessed under Glukhova's watch.

"Fuck your lover all day long and give us the fruits of your labour," she moaned seductively into Natalia's ear, her lips grazing the shell of Natalia's ear.

Immediately, Natalia bent her knees and pulled Glukhova over her shoulder aggressively, flipping her over, only to find that the old cat hadn't forgotten her tricks. Glukhova landed lithely on her feet and smirked at Natalia who had raised her gun to Glukhova's head.

"Don't think for a single moment that I won't pull the trigger. After everything you have done to me, to both of us, and even my embryos, I will kill you. It's only a question of how long you have left."

"And on what does this death timer depend?" Glukhova laughed mirthlessly, though there was a gleam in her eyes.

"On how long it takes for you to walk me to the facility in which you are breeding my offspring." Natalia hissed, walking around Glukhova, and twisting he am behind her back. Additionally, Natalia pressed the gun to the back of Glukhova's head.

"Well then... Follow me."


	16. Chapter 16

A/N:May the horror begin.

A/N trigger warning:  
brain-washing, medically induced coma, humans used as medical guinea pigs & non-con medical treatments

The twists and turns off dimly lit streets, wrought hell upon foreigners in the land of greatness, but to Glukhova, a labyrinth was merely a gift during their silent procession, in which she could gloat of her successful venture of the last couple years. Natalia never eased the pressure of the gun from Glukhova's back, following with an embedded frown on her lips, as they reached the workers entrance of an abandoned building.

"A hospital?" she breathed in disbelief.

"Where else should these things be carried out?" Mistress Glukhova displayed a new unhinged, demonic grin, and her eyes lit up with fresh excitement. She carefully opened the door, and pulled on a dustless leaver in a back room covered in cobwebs. A trapdoor opened up near a wall, and they found themselves winding down the steps, following a faint light in the distance. The steps squeaked with the impact of leather on icy grounds, but Natalia's form remained silent as ever.

As the light crept closer, they made out some old paintings which hunt on the walls. The images depicted a three headed snake, red ink making them seem ablaze in the faint light.

The sound of whirring machines started reverberating distinctly as they stepped closer, the clinical lights and the smell of disinfectant causing her stomach to churn. The dry air so common to hospitals became stifling, and she began feeling a little light headed, not noticing that Glukhova had raised her arm to cover her mouth. At last they walked into a brightly lit corridor, which was empty apart from a single bench in a far corner which looked worn down by years of misuse.

Natalia jabbed Glukhova's shoulder with her gun, and sighed as the woman continued her walk.

"Show me," she insisted, pushing her towards the door.

"See for yourself. The fruit of your loins," the door swung open in a slow and ominous manner under the guidance of Glukhova's fingers. In a grey room with stained walls, and dozens of beds pressed together, the patients were close enough to rub shoulders. The beds were filled with lovely young women whose feet were chained to the frames of their beds, and their hands were linked to loose chains around their waists, as they all lay in bed, their faces blank and empty. Their wombs were all filled to differing degrees. A girl at the end which Natalia recognized as Alyana, barely showed any abdominal curvature whereas others sported stomachs which were swollen painfully large, veins pulsing visibly under their stretch-marked skin.

"What have you done to them?" she breathed in horror, subconsciously moving her free hand over her own abdomen.

"Only what they deserved," Glukhova laughed walking towards the center of the room, as Natalia was too shocked to pull the trigger.

"They failed us. They failed our mother, Russia. After we had gifted them all with longevity, they were all sheer disappointments. Let them serve now as vessels. They will bear the perfect soldiers, the child of the man who cannot be wounded and a woman who cannot die naturally. They will bear, and bear, and bear, until no more blood flows into their wombs. By the time we dispose of these brain-dead vessels, new vessels will have proven themselves unworthy of the great tasks that our nation needs done."

"Brai- You destroyed all these girls to make them living incubators for my - for our children?" she breathed in horror.

"Be proud," Glukhova glowed, clapping her hands together, "You're changing the world now, Romanova."

"No- no!" she raised her gun and blacked out as a dull smack echoed off the back of her head.

It was buzzing. Everything was buzzing relentlessly. The buzz transformed into a painful ringing whose crescendo strained her heavily laden mind. Everything was heavy, everything was dull., everything was nothing. There is no stability, there is no instability. Limbo. Purgatory. Something.

"_Mumma, why are you packing?" she asked curiously, jabbing her finger towards the suitcase that was gradually being filled by Maria Romanova. _

"_Because we're going on a nice little vacation tomorrow, baby. You, daddy, and I. We'll travel, have lots of fun, and we'll have a lot of yummy food. Think of it as an adventure. A treasure-hunt for fun-destinations."_

"_Oh! Oh! Is Sir Teddy coming too?" she asked eagerly, hugging her ragged teddy bear, though she had outgrown him a long time ago according to her father._

"_Of course, baby. Anything you want."_

_Maria shuffled around, packing an umbrella, and many more sturdy clothes that fit Natalia. Frowning she went to get her perfume._

"_Mumma, I want to smell!" Natalia beamed, making grabby-hands for her favourite perfume. "Please?"_

"_Will you promise to go to sleep, if I spray you?"_

"_Yes!" She climbed into bed, and made herself comfortable, beaming as her mother approached and sat on the edge of the little bed. "Good night-"_

_Maria stopped, her head snapping up to sniff. She sniffed once, she sniffed twice, she sniffed once more. _

"_Get out of bed, Natalia."_

_Natya furrowed her brows in confusion, as her mother threw the duvet aside and quickly pulled her out. Holding her close to her chest, they ran outside, and Maria set her daughter to the ground._

"_Stay here, Natya. Stay outside."_

_At last Natalia saw why her mother ran. Through the window, she saw a flame eat its way through several windows on their home. _

"_Sasha? Sasha?" her mother cried desperately. "Stay, Natya. I'll be back with your father."_

_Horrified, Natalia watched her mother disappear through the door again, running around, her footsteps changing pace as she ran in and out of rooms. "Sasha?"_

"_Help! Maria!" A faint voice came from the upper floor, which was nearly completely consumed by fire._

"_Papa!" Natalia cried, trying to run back in, but a firm hand held her shoulder in place. She turned her head, eyes brimming with tears, as she beheld their old family friend Ivan Petrovich, as an explosion caused the upper floor to cave in with a groan._

"_NO!" She weeped, a sudden sense of loss raging through her, though she had never experienced or understood the feeling before._

"_Come here, little one." Petrovich knelt down and wrapped his strong arms around her, stroking her back soothingly. "I'm still here, little one. I'll take care of you, now."_

"_I want mumma," she sobbed, fat tears running down her pale cheeks. _

"_I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he whispered falsely. "You know what? I'll take you somewhere fun, what do you say? To a place filled with little boys and girls just like you. A funny little academy where all the walls are the same pretty colour as your hair."_

"_Why?" she whimpered, unable to face the wreckage, and hiding her face in the crook of his neck._

"_So you will never be alone again."_

Heavy silence weighed her down again for a long time, slowly turning back to the original ringing. It grew and grew and grew, until finally… it stopped.

In the new silence, mechanical clatter was born, the hushed footsteps traversed around her, and a self-sufficient beeping echoed the strumming of her heart. Something was wrong. She felt exposed. Cold air touched her intimately, breezing with the shuffling of bodies. Two, three... No four pairs of feet. The near silent squeak of two light boots swept towards her, and a feathery light touch stroked down her cheeks, almost as tender as a caress, if it went for the heavy drag of nails pressing into her cheeks.

"Don't bother faking, Romanova, your heart gives you away. Open those sultry eyes which bewitched your Asset," the alto tones of Glukhova voice, warmed her earlobe.

She pressed her lips into a thin line and opened her eyes, blinking to escape the blinding brightness of the room

"Good girl, " the voice crooned, still stroking her face. Through her peripheral vision she saw the face of the monster who had done all of this. She screamed and tried to jump off the gurney to fight her, but five sets of restraints tugged at her flesh: one on her forehead, one per wrist and one per ankle. She wore a light cotton hospital gown, revealing her intimate flesh to a crowd of guards and doctors. Her ankles were placed in metal contraptions, raising them apart off either side of the bed.

"Stirrups?" she whispered, straining to fix her gaze on the woman in her periphery.

"It seemed like a good idea to have a little check up again. Just so we wake you at the right time, instead of wasting our resources..."

Her mind spun as the words registered. "How long was I unconscious?"

"Six days," Glukhova grinned, leaning over her. "We maximize results by waiting for ovulation. The tablets should still be effective even taken intravenously."

"What are you going to do-? I may not be able to stop you from doing things to me, but your breeding program is over. He will never agree to this... He will stop you. He'll find out and destroy you all. He will pick you off one by one-"

"Oh Romanova... Have you learnt nothing? Nothing is the way it seems in the red room." She pressed a soft kiss to Natalia's forehead, who in turn tried to head-butt her.

"I like you, child," she smiled deprecatingly. "You're a fighter. A real Black Widow. The only real one since my days who is worthy of the title. That's exactly why I didn't do to you as I did to your lover... His charm is too genuine. Not useful to us."

Cold sweat pricked at her neck, and her stomach tightened info a knot. "What did you do to him?" she hissed, her jaw clenched painfully.

"Nothing too problematic. We simply wiped him again. Cleared his mind so that he may appreciate the ways of the red room just a little more. Make him more of an asset again. But," her eyes grew dark, and her face shrouded in fresh shadows, "See for yourself."

She flicked her wrist, and one of the guards shuffled, heading away, before heading back with a familiar companion,

"Asset, this is your assignment."

Natasha sought him, wild-eyed, and followed Glukhova's gaze, straining to raise her head as much as possible from the bed. On the edge of her vision stood the Asset, his eyes were alight like the eyes of a feral, restrained animal, with his brows knitting together in concentration, studying her minutely. His lips, which bristled with an unkempt three day beard, were drawn into a thin hard line. He shrugged his shoulders like an athlete, the mechanics in his arms whirring,

"Vanya! Stop the-"

In that moment, someone stuffed cotton into her mouth, and the cold eyes of the Asset met hers at last, the spring-like, usually energetic voice, coming out as a subdued drone, "Who the hell is Vanya?"

A/N: Ok. Be honest. What do you think? Any ideas on how she'll get out of this mess?


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: Okay, here is a lengthy chapter. We've reached the climax. Enjoy. Ps, lots of violence and triggers.

"He's no one," Glukhova crooned walking over to the Asset and stroking his chest dotingly, a little smirk playing on her over-done lips. "She mistakes you for her dead lover, Soldier. But you're nothing like him, are you?" Though her words came out as sweet as honey, every word felt like a jab straight to Natalia's heart.

The Asset remained motionless, merely shifting his intense gaze from Natalia to Mistress Glukhova, a surgical type of interest in the sharpness of his stare.

"State your mission," Glukhova commanded softly, pressing her cheek to his leatherclad shoukder, clearly enjoying her latest toy.

"Neutralise threat. "

"And how we're you instructed to do this? " she persisted, eyeing Natalia's hopeless expression with satisfaction.

"Impregnate threat."

"Excellent. You know Romanova, programming is one of the nicer things at Department X. For example, I could have them wipe away all your memories after tonight. I could erase all your pain, and suffering. I could make them give you joyful memories, or maybe even return your original memories…" Glukhova laughed, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. "But I won't. Disobedience has its price… and this," she raised her hands gesturing to the facility, "is yours."

Natalia's neck twitched, as she pressed her lips together, clamping her jaw shut, and trying to focus on anything but him. Glukhova was not allowed to see her suffer. She must not have that victory.

"Always trying to be the best," Glukhova smiled knowingly, and brushed her hand across the side of the Asset's face. "But never good enough…Not even for him," Glukhova stage-whispered, covering his ears playfully. "So, I will just have to help him out a little… get a head-start," Glukhova crooned, licking her lips while maintaining eye-contact with Natalia. She never averted her eyes, as Glukhova turned to kiss the rough cheek of his unmoving form. She slowly slid down, outside the range of Natalia's sight, but Natalia did not have to see to know exactly what was happening. She had seen it all before.

The sound of the slow zip, the dropping of trousers, the sloppy sound of those first licks, the kisses pressed over imposing lengths, the distant, sickening sound of sucking.

Shutting her eyes she wished for anything but to hear her Vanya being taken by that vile creature- but he was not hers anymore.

She shut her eyes, and let her mind wander.

_"Vanya," she'd whispered one night as they lay intertwined in bed, covered in warm thick coats in an apartment during a joint mission. "Can I ask you a question "_

_Grinning, he pulled her closer, covering them both in a warm duvet, snuggling with her._

_"You just did."_

_Chagrined, she rolled her eyes at his oh-so-great-wit, and sighed dramatically. _

_"All right, all right, I'll bite. What is it? "_

_"You know how I call you Angel because you've always protected me from harm? Whether its patrols, or missions…"_

_"Yes?" he asked hesitantly._

"_I don't know if I believe in angels," she remarked decidedly. "I don't know whether there is a God. It's not something that I was raised to believe in, but I hear your people- Americans- do…Were you raised to believe? "_

_"I-" he faltered, and pressed his lips together, squinting in concentration. "I don't know. I don't remember being raised…"_

_"Nor do I, not really at least... But you're American. You speak their language, you use their idioms, you bear their humour at times. Some things about your youth must still be filtering through…? They say America is not a communist nation, and that they believe in a God of justice. Do you know if that is true?"_

_"That sounds correct, " he nodded, brows furrowing._

_"They believe in a place of eternal damnation?"_

_He nodded again. "But also of one filled with eternal salvation."_

_"Do you believe that? " Natasha asked soberly. "In a life after all of this?"_

_He paused, and shifted in bed, twisting until they were looking into each other's eyes. "Are you afraid of being judged?" he whispered gently, eyes filled with understanding. _

_"Our lives… we murder, we deceive, we change the course of history... But what is the point of changing history if this world is just a tiny part of something bigger? Are we just ants then? Waiting to be set on fire?"_

_"Let me tell you what I know about this just God, Natalia. I do recall a few tidbits… They say he knows everything, he sees everything, and he knows what will happen. He likes to test the people he likes best, but most importantly, he's a merciful God."_

_"Mercy? she asked skeptically. "That's a weakness."_

_"In our line of work, yes. But when it comes to eternity, people consider mercy to be kindness."_

_"Would he be merciful to us too?" she asked softly, testing their bounds. _

_"Perhaps. Perhaps not. But in the end, I can promise you one thing. "_

_"Oh?"_

_"Whether it's heaven or hell, wherever you go, I go too."_

With a sickening squelch Natalia was pulled back to the present, where Glukhova righted herself, smirking away, her lipstick smudged, and her hair slightly ruffled.

"We'll leave you to your mission then," she spoke softly, pressing a knowing kiss to the Asset's cheek, and glancing at Natalia one last time before Glukhova and all her workers left the two former lovers alone.

"Please," Natalia begged, but was muffled by the cotton. Her gaze scoured over him, searching for just the mildest trace of the compassionate, kind, thoughtful man she had fallen in love with. For the man who held her, who made love to her, who taught her skills of war, but also the simple pleasures of music…

He was blank.

The asset positioned himself at the edge of the bed, and forcefully yanked her waist forward, until her bottom was nearly hanging off the bed. The tug was strong enough to free the tie from her forehead, but also to chafe her wrists painfully. With his lips pressed together, he placed his hands on either side of her waist, and stared at the metal bedframe past her head, as he shoved himself into her dry, unprepared body, splitting her open with an animalistic grunt.

She howled like a wounded dog, writhing, trying anything to stop the pain from the mechanical, monstrous thrusting. She bit back the bile rising within her, and clenched her jaw, as he twitched within her, nearing his ill-gained climax. Tears sprung to her eyes, terror washing through her. Everything was falling apart. Everything was broken. Everything she was gone, thrust away in blood and agony. What had been embraced was reviled, the pleasant memories were tainted, the confort was shredded, the love was broken.

There was no going back. Not with this blind creature. Not to the KGB. Not with this stranger. Silent tears slid down her cheeks as she resigned herself to her fate. As her lips trembled. As he blurred away once more.

_Natalia,_ her Vanya's words whispered in her mind. _You must move on. Promise me you'll seek happiness._

_But what is happiness?_she thought back. _What is it without you?_

_Seek comfort in someone else's arms, _the memory whispered back.

_The only comfort I will ever find is in their destruction._

_So be it._

Her eyes snapped open, but the Asset hardly noticed, too preoccupied with his assignment, to care. Her thoughts raced, as her eyes darted around the room quickly, seeking openings, seeking possible escape routes. No. Finding weapons.

His body trembled, slowing to a stop, his breath coming in a ragged pant, as he shook himself empty into her, filling her the way he had done so often when they had made love in the past. She fumed at the memory of their doting unification in the past, and how every single embrace, every caress, every stolen moment of peace was completely and utterly taken away from them. Everything was gone, just to further Glukhova's delusions. But... What if. .. If there was nothing left? If all the stolen children were returned to their original fate? To crumble. What if all the comatose 'vessels' were to find their ultimate state? _ Would that not be the true mercy?_ Would this God of Justice, Vanya's God, see her acts and forgive the destruction of what destroyed everything she ever held dear? Did it even matter what it thought?

Without waiting another second, she broke her thumb and slipped out of the bind. Grabbing an injection, she jammed it into the back of the Asset's throat and watched him struggle briefly with consciousness, slipping into sleep atop of her.

Using what was left of her hand; she untied the other and freed her legs. Silently she pulled him onto the bed, and yanked the cotton out of her mouth, spitting the remaining fibres onto the floor.

"Our destiny has been decided for us," she whispered, pressing a kiss against his slack lips, and holding his hand to her chest one more time. "Sleep in peace, my Angel. I will join you in death soon."

She willed her legs to move, to run off, to complete her self-set mission, but something was missing. Something was wrong with this goodbye.

They never said goodbye, only-

Her expression softened, and the Black Widow hummed a sad little song into the sleeping man's ear. A dance for two. A last waltz.

With her hum still ringing in the back of her throat, she stripped him of his weapons, prying all of them from their hidden positions. They might have made him forget, but old habits die hard.

She cut through the hospital gown, and tied both lowers halves to each of her legs using the straps they had used to tie her down, so it would not flap and give her away. She sprung off the bed lithely, and waited beside the closed door.

"They say he's a legend. A master Assassin. The most successful hit man we've ever had. "

"Of course. You saw what he was like inside. Determined, emotionless. Wish he'd taught us in the black room instead of teaching all those girls. They're not good assassins. I'm telling you, they're just good for the Whorehouses. Every single one of them. "

"Shut up, Oblonsky. If Mistress Glukhova hears you she'll-"

"Suck me to death?" Oblonsky laughed.

"You never paid attention in class, did you? She has the highest death count in Hydra's entire workforce a 99% success rate, and the most mental torture techniques. Remember when they taught us about finger screws? She's the one who pioneered cock-screws."

"Fuck no," Oblonsky hissed.

"Fuck yes, boys." Natalia opened the door, a flirtatious smile playing on her lips, though she locked them down with a hateful glare. She shot them both straight into the heart with the gun in her good hand, while they fumbled for their equipment. The silencer worked its magic, leaving only two faint thuds as the heavy bodies hit the wall and slid down.

"How is that for a little whore," she muttered, crouching down to collect tear gas canisters, a gas mask, and extra cartridges off the dead men.

Silently, the Angel of Death blazed through the halls, flitting through dark corners, dancing through all the blackness, and grime, unseen and unheard, as dainty kicks disabled those armed to the teeth, and quick twists of her slender arms, wrought broken necks in their numbers, flinging, fighting, destroying all those who dared to cross her path.

The halls were littered with dead bodies, and a steely hardness wrapped around her heart, every shred of hatred from the years of her torturous existence in the red room boiling up. Every violation shed witness; the love they had destroyed, the man 5hey had taken apart, the futures they had shredded. Worn the raging fury of a slighted Valkyrie, she stormed and slaughtered, red filling her vision, destruction being her essence, chaos being her soul. And all of this happened in perfect silence.

His God would have to be very merciful if he did not send her to hell.

Her heel came in contact with a man's jaw, snapping his spine, and she finally found the room she had sought out. The room that had to burn at all costs.

The vessels would blaze.

The gas canisters rolled, the room filled with the desperate calls of heart rate monitors, beeping with their futile pleas, kicking and screaming murder, until one by one they all joined in the unified song of a single note.

The note of death.

Every room was filled with freshly decaying flesh, every corridor emptied of the living, and not a single sight of the Demonic Mistress. But it hardly mattered anymore. There were more important things to dwell on. She'd probably poisoned her beloved who was no longer her beloved, she destroyed the soulless mess that Glukhova built, and now if she burnt everything to embers there would be nothing left of this project, this plan. Them.

Was that not the greater victory?

Filled with a steeled heart, the Angel of death swept the halls of the dead once more, her gas mask lodged in place, as her nimble fingers ransacked the closets, and cupboards, collecting pills, disinfectants, inflammable fluids, and cotton swabs and binds. The Angel flew left and right, in and out, up and down, collecting, hoarding, and stashing everything in the central corridor. She pushed all doors open, poured the liquids over the corridors, and shut her eyes at last; pulling the gun she had stolen from Vanya out of her holster, having kept it for last.

She pointed the gun straight down into the puddle of disinfectant pooling around her feet.

"I would not do that if I were you," a smug voice called from behind her.

"Have you come to burn with us after all?" Natalia breathed, wrenching the now unnecessary mask off her face.

"Hardly. But I ought to introduce you to someone…"

"Save your breath, I killed the only man I loved because you turned him into a beast," she spat, starting at the floor, her back still turned to Glukhova.

"Oh, he's quiet all right, but that was quite the tranquilizer you used."

"Tranq-" she turned around instantly, only to find that Glukhova was not alone.

In Glukhova's arms lay a wide-eyed little baby.

A/N: Apologies for all the theology, but I can't help but think that Nat would be curious about his cultural background... Anyway, we're nearing the end. There's only one more chapter and the epilogue. So, lots of revelations here... any thoughts? Please, I love hearing from you guys.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: This is the last proper chapter in this tale. The next chapter is the epilogue. Thank you very much for reading so far, and I hope I haven't been too much of a disappointment.

In Glukhova's arms lay a wide-eyed little baby.

From the tightly wrapped bundle Natalia could make out small tufts of red hair and a tiny dimpled chin which was more familiar than she cared to admit this grueling night. The girl had a little snub nose and rosebud lips which pulled open into a tiny O as she yawned sleepily, revealing her bright blue eyes to her mother.

"You-"

"I saved one," Glukhova's hard gaze darkened with triumph, her long nails stroking over the snub nose. "Romanova, meet WW01, she is the very first of her kind. Indestructible and practically immortal..." Glukhova's hand softly rubbed the little head with a grin. "She was born during your extended little sleep, you know... A quiet thing. Rather like her father," she chuckled throatily, seemingly recalling something Natalia did not know.

"There won't be any more," Natalia hissed, gaze darkening, turning murderous. "You might be able to replace me, but you can't replace him. I promise I will hunt him down and kill him, rather than let you brutalize him any further. He's not going to be your toy anymore."

"Oh dear," Glukhova crooned to the baby. "Mummy's not as bright as I thought. We don't need mummy or daddy, do we? We just copy you, don't we baby? We just use you. Mummy can die, right? Right?"

The child tilts her head in confusion, and yawned again, and blinked a couple times.

"That's a yes."

In the flash an eye, Glukhova cradled the child in one arm, and threw a dagger straight for Natalia's jugular. Natalia quickly ducked and rolled out of the way, arms getting wet with the flammable fluids she'd poured. She could not use any of the weapons she accumulated as they would blow everything up, and had mission had just changed from 'die and take everything down' to 'save my baby and her father.'

_Fuck._

Hand-to-hand combat then.

The movements, the training, the actions, everything came back to her quickly as she began her attack. She vaulted, and leaped, pushing herself off the walls to change direction quickly as she dodged the angry daggers Glukhova chased her with from the center of the room. With each fluid motion, her mind darted, searching for possible opportunities.

_Break lights? Might hurt child. _

_Throw down enemy? Might hurt baby. _

_Hit pressure points? Might drop girl._

_Priority: extract my daughter._

Throwing weak, imprecise kicks and punches, Natalia backed Glukhova back into a room filled with several empty hospital beds, lit up only by the lights filtering through the wide open doors.

"Fight properly!" Natalia grunted in irritation as Glukhova merely dodged her attacks by comfortably twisting her body out of reach.

"Why should I fight you when I clearly have the advantage? Your rage makes you sloppy," Glukhova chuckled deprecatingly, and held the child close, as she dealt a swift kick to Natalia's abdomen, causing the young widow to fall to the ground, panting in pain, as the pain between her legs bloomed between her thighs once again, as she fell onto her legs at an awkward angle.

"Don't worry, Romanova. You are not a total failure tonight. You've beaten my personal best kill count in terms of kills per minute in direct combat. I'll make sure to mention it in your deceased file, after you've burnt up in your own bonfire." Her eyes lit up with dark humour as she cradled the baby, and stepped over Natalia, heading for the door. "Thank you for this little experiment. It was quite fascinating." Natalia grunted in pain as she tried to push herself off the floor, only managing to roll sideways on the floor, and crouch onto her knees, as the soft footsteps echoed down the corridor, out in a direction opposite to the entrance they had used to enter the building.

"Oh Vanya," Natalia exhaled through gritted teeth clutching her abdomen. Tears prickled in her eyes, and her lips quivered. It was all for nothing. She couldn't even stop Glukhova- she couldn't even save anything- Unless…

Natalia took one long deep breath, and pressed herself onto the floor wetting her face and cheeks in the pools of flammable liquids. Her nervous hand trembled as it reached for her holster, and she pulled out one gun. The one gun she had saved for last: His.

"I'm so sorry," she whimpered, raising the gun to her head, her heart beating furiously. She was unsure whether it was eager to live or desperate to die, but there was one thing she was sure of: This is the only way to stop Glukhova... _I just need a spark. Just a spark. A tiny light..._

Clenching her teeth, she pushed herself onto her knees first, and then onto her feet, always holding the gun to her head as she rose slowly._ Die with honour. Do not cower. Do not plead. I am the Black Widow, and all I wish to slaughter will die. I will die. I will die. I will-_

A shrill cry echoed from a small set of lungs. The little lungs cried and cried and cried relentlessly from upstairs.

_Our baby_, she thought helplessly, struggling as she let the gun fall to her side, and began stumbling towards the door.

The cries turned into shrill shrieks, and Glukhova's hateful voice could be heard scolding the child. Natalia groaned, pulling out the dagger from the wall, and kept following the pleading calls of her daughter.

_I'm coming. I'm coming…_ She struggled up a set of steps, following the loudening yells until she silently opened a door that led to the outside world. To the chilly night of Mother Russia.

"Be quiet you insufferable child," Glukhova exclaimed angrily, shaking the child. "Be quiet, I said!" Glukhova's hand rose, and with the very last of Natalia's strength, she raised the dagger and threw it.

The dagger gild through the air, piercing through the sparse fluid with the bright moonlight reflecting off its shiny surface, before it lodged into the back of Glukhova's neck.

Glukhova's screams mingled with those of the child

"You-"

"I'm taking the 'fruit of my loins' back, thank you very much," she hissed, limping forward.

"No- She's mine-" Glukhova groaned as her legs gave way under her, numbness spreading through her, as she crumpled. Natalia growled, and quickly plucked her child from Glukhova's arms, and kicked her former Mistress in the stomach, though grimacing in pain as pain shot through her legs again.

"I would shoot you, but I think I'll do that when my daughter's not here to see me end your pathetic life. Who knows, maybe the knife was enough too," Natalia smiled without mirth, whilst cradling her daughter affectionately. "It was fascinating learning from you," she spoke sardonically, and turned to leave. The baby looked up at her in fascination, her tiny lips pulled into a toothless smile, as she extended her tiny fingers in the direction of her mother.

Warmth spread through Natalia, the first true warmth since… she couldn't even remember the last time she had been with her Vanya. Everything felt like a nightmare… She bent down slowly, and kissed the tip of the tiny fingers, just as a shot rang out behind her.

Turning immediately, Natalia gripped the hilt of her gun, and froze as she saw everything.

Glukhova lay outstretched on the ground, eyes blank, and blood trickling out of the back of her head, though her gun pointed forward, directed straight at Natalia.

Behind the corpse stood the Asset, his grim mouth parted in a sigh as he wiped red spots off his gun-wielding metal hand.

"Leave now," he ordered, gaze flicking between the girls, as his brows furrowed with pain like something was perpetually bothering his sight.

"Vanya? Is that… really you?" Natalia whispered, clutching the child closer, just in case.

"Run. I'll convince them you died in the hospital fire, taking Glukhova with you in the flames," he breathed squeezing his eyes together, grimacing in pain.

"Vanya!"

"No. Don't keep stalling. Run! I'll survive. I'll be fine. Go keep it safe." He groaned pressing his fingers to his temple.

"Her," Natalia corrected immediately, surprising herself with the statement.

"Her," he nodded briefly, the corners of his lips tugging just a tiny bit. "My daughter?" he asked softly, stepping over the corpse, and standing right in front of them.

"Our daughter," she amended again, stroking the little chin once more, and looking up at him, soul brimming with hope.

Before either of them could stop themselves, their lips were sealed against each other's once again in a kiss. It was not a passionate kiss, not even a particularly fiery one like those they had shared before. It was other.

It was better.

Their lips were gentle, hesitant even, as if a mere feather might shatter the other's lips. He curved himself around the girls, leaning down, and raising her carefully by her waist, as they memorized each other one last time.

For one brief moment, everything was right. Everything was perfect. But just like life must end, all good things must come to an end. Vanya slowly pulled back, gazing down at her in adoration, his brows no longer furrowed, his expression no longer infused with pain.

"I'm sorry about what happened down there, Natya. I was not in control, they did something to me and I couldn't stop my body from following their commands, and-"

"What changed? How did you come…? Back?" she whispered, looking down to see his flesh hand stroking the little girls forehead, who in turn was reaching up with her tiny fingers, smiling as she yawned and retracted the hand.

"I heard a gentle song, coming from the lips of an Angel. She hummed a little waltz I once knew..." he smiled.

"I-I broke through to you?"

"You broke through my cognitive recalibration," he murmured softly, pressing one last kiss to her forehead. "Run, Red, and don't look back. Make sure our angel is safe," he whispered.

"I will."

"Just-" he bent down and tugged the coat off of Glukhova, ripping off the blood stained collar and the tainted crest. "Stay warm."

She nodded, wrapping it around her shoulders.

"Stay safe, my angel," she whispered one last time and fled into the night.

Two sad blue eyes trailed after her disappearing silhouette, humming the waltz that changed their lives.

Into the night sky of Leningrad the burning embers of the run-down hospital brightening the dulled heart of the Soviet Union.

A/N: Thank you for reading! That's the last we'll be seeing of those two together.I hope you enjoyed their love-story (or at least my version of it. Lots of love. ps. the epilogue deals with closure.


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: Okay here it goes: Vanya is the diminuitive form of Ivan, which means John, which when genderbent is Joanna, which is Jeanne in French. All of them mean "God is gracious." Thank you to everyone for reading. It's been a wild ride, and I'm very glad that I could share it with you. Thank you for the kind words, and I hope to see you guys around. If you ever want to talk: .com

A/N: Enjoy.

The scents of Paris filled Natasha's lungs. The breeze carried the taste of the river on its lofty wings, and the heavy smells of cooking wafted from the Parisian streets. She walked through the streets, wrapped in the budding designer, Yves Saint Laurent's pea-coat, which was the latest cry in Parisian fashion, over a simple plaid shirt and pants. A simple bow was tied around her hair, controlling the curly red mane, as she followed them. She hid behind her large sunglasses, taking a draft from an herbal cigarette as she walked, keeping an approximate 150 foot distance.

She entered a market, keeping her eyes on the jaunty pair, while she bought a newspaper and an apple to go, while her targets sat in a restaurant across the street, conversing happily as they stared at each other with bright grins. The elder smiled at the younger, and leant across the table, fixing the latter's scarf.

The red-haired, bouncy child, made a face at her mother, but continued to eat her chicken dutifully, though she tried to hide some of her broccoli in a napkin without avail, as her mother promptly put the vegetables back onto her plate. She stuck her tongue out at her mother and burst into dimpled laughter, brightening her glowing blue eyes, making the other families dining out on a Saturday afternoon, smile appreciatively.

_How much she looks like her father._

Across the street, as the sun shone through Paris, and happy couples, with happy families roamed the old roads of splendor, nobody noticed Natasha wipe away her tears, as she turned her back on her daughter once more.

She walked along the Seine that lazy afternoon, making a detour in order to pass the famous halls of Notre Dame, on her way to the bookstore. Cathedrals were not a place where she felt comfortable. Incense, priests, and people begging on their knees to a higher power... That was not who she was, it was not who he was. _Is?_ A little voice whispered in the back of her mind, but she promptly ignored it.

When she beheld the massive structure, the imposing windows, and the clusters of people, both old and young, flowing in and out the doors, she couldn't help but hope that if there was a God, he might take care of their little girl.

Sighing audibly she finally walked on, shaking her head to herself, trying to shake the memories that would taint her thoughts of him forever.

"Shakespeare and Company," it read on the sign of the door, though there was another shop nearby with the exact same name. She pushed the door open, and tilts her head as the heady scent of leather-bound books hit her like a wave. Everywhere the eye could see, there were books upon books. Old books, new books, worn-down books, even books which were still inside protective papers. There were couches, and cushions, and even a place to lie down and read. She walked around, smiling away to herself as she found a little side room with a typewriter, where a giggly couple of teenagers were typing away cheerfully. _Probably a profane little love-letter_, she thought fondly, walking on.

A slightly middle-aged worker approached her, wearing a bright, kind, smile.

"May I help you, Mademoiselle? Is there something specific that you wish to find? Maybe to borrow, or to purchase?" he asked in French, his graying mustache twitching slightly as he gestured around.

"Do you have any piano scores?" she asked in flawless French, taking her sunglasses off, smiling sheepishly as if she had only just noticed that she was still wearing them.

"Oh my, I do not know exactly. I am new at the store," he frowned, but suddenly his eyes lit up as he realized the implication. "You play piano, mademoiselle?"

"Yes I do, actually," she replied softly, not wanting to distract the people sitting around and reading.

"There is a piano on the first floor, mademoiselle. Visitors love to play it, do come along and play for us. Everyone loves to hear some music. Especially on such a lovely day!"

"I-"

"Oh please do come along," he took her slender wrist and started pulling her towards the stairs excitedly.

Immediately three different ways of breaking his fingers shot to her mind, along with 20 different escape routes, and four locations where she could hide his body within the bookshop itself, but as she saw him turn and smile at her with the genuine warmth of an old man who just loved music, she let the thoughts slide away, and followed him.

Indeed, beside the leather sofa seating the resident cat, stood an average-looking piano. It was by no means the most beautiful piano in the world but it would do. Immediately the cat jumped off its perch and walked over to her, mewling happily as it walked between her legs, and hurried down the stairs.

"Please," he gestured towards the piano, his entire face lighting up joyfully.

"I don't know what to play…" she murmured, setting her purse down next to the piano stool and taking a seat.

"Whatever feels right," he suggested, stepping back and giving her some space.

"Then… there's only one thing to do now." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath placing her fingers on the keys, exhaling as the melody came forth from the cavernous back of the piano. _A…F…ED…DEFDFA…._

The waltz flowed from her fingers naturally as if she was still sitting in the practice room, with Vanya's flesh arm wrapped around her waist, stroking her back encouragingly. In her mind's eye the gentle, soulful music, brought forth a film of brief instances from their time together: that first time she saw him during Yanina's punishment, the first time she heard him play, the first time he spoke to her, the moments their lips met in her room that fateful evening, the first time they made love, all the times afterwards too…

Silent tears streaked her cheeks as she remembered his bright eyes, his soulful smile, the warmth of his embrace, the way he had loved her. Yes. Yes, it had been love. So much more than just plain love. He had been her destiny. He had been everything.

"Vanya," she whispered sadly, as the final chord struck the keys.

Polite applause echoed up through the staircase from downstairs, and a quick pitter-patter of little footsteps came closer. Natasha quickly wiped her cheeks and put her sunglasses back on, picking up her purse once more, sniffing briefly.

"Wow!"

Natasha froze, as she saw the girl.

Her girl.

"Slow down, Jeanne!" a young woman called up the stairs, taking two steps at a time, trying to catch up with her daughter.

"That was … that was so… I wish I could- You're amazing," Jeanne exclaimed, running across and hugging Natasha's legs.

"Jeanne!" her mother cried out in bewilderment. "Leave the nice lady alone!"

"I-" Natasha gaped, speechless all of a sudden.

"See what you've done?" the mother chided, carefully pulling Jeanne away. "You've embarrassed the nice lady who was kind enough to entertain us. Apologize, for your bad behavior."

"No- no, please don't apologize, it's… fine," Natalia spoke at last, blinking away her shock, still feeling the lingering warmth of her daughter's embrace.

"I promise you, madam, she is not usually like this," the mother said with embarrassment tinging her cheeks.

"Mama! I want to learn to play! Please, Mama! Please, please, please?" little Jean begged, pouting, and using her big puppy eyes, as she hugging her mother's legs.

"Jeanne…"

"Pl_ea_se?" she intoned, tugging on her mother's dress. "I really want to be as good as her! I will be! Please?"

"I- I suppose it would be nice," Jeanne's adoptive mother sighed.

"Yay!" The girl beamed in triumph, cheeks dimpling. She turned to Natasha and beamed. "Madam, what was that song? I wish to learn it someday."

"It's… a complicated name, little one." Natalia knelt down in front of the girl. She ripped out a page from her pocket diary, and wrote down the name on the paper. "Here." She placed the folded up paper in Jeanne's little hand, and smiled warmly, though there was an uncertainty on her lips. "Learn it well, angel. Maybe someday you'll play it, and make someone fall in love with you."

"You think so?" Jeanne gasped, holding the paper close to her heart, and rocking from side-to-side in excitement.

"It worked for me," Natasha whispered so that only Jeanne could hear her, and watched as the little girl's eyes popped wide open.

"Woah," she whispered back.

"Goodbye, little angel, and all the best."

Natasha rose slowly, and headed for the staircase. She turned briefly, and saw mother and daughter talking excitedly, as the sunlight filtered through the window. Natasha winked at her daughter, and knew then and there, that there might just be a merciful God after all.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this story from start to finish. Thank you for reading.

Ps. Check out the most lovely fanart on archiveofourown*org/works/2455988


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